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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669089">Lockets</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747'>Applesandbannas747</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fence (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fictionalized amnesia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:34:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On his way to his grandparents' mountain cabin for winter break, Eugene and his family come across a lone figure walking the road with skin so pale from cold and uniform so white, he all but blends in with the surrounding snow. Eugene is startled to find that he recognizes the boy and even more startled to find that the boy doesn't recognize himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eugene Labao/Jesse Coste</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The promised storm was on the horizon.</p><p class="p1">Eugene watched as the horizon made good on that promise, gentle drifts of snow growing heavier and painting the scenery in white blurs as they passed by. They turned onto the mountain pass to his grandparents’ cabin—which they’d lent to Eugene’s branch of the family for winter break.</p><p class="p1">“Will we make it before the storm snows us in?” Luna asked. She was already in a foul mood and they’d only been out of cell reception for an hour. A whole two weeks without the internet was not appealing to Eugene’s little sister.</p><p class="p1">“We’ll make it,” Dad said cheerily. Luna’s question hadn’t been serious but she frowned now at the earnest answer and squinted out the window, reassessing if she ought to be worried about getting stranded in the van instead of in the cabin they were driving to.</p><p class="p1">“Hey,” she said in a strange tone of voice. “Hey, Gene, is that a person?”</p><p class="p1">“What?” Eugene squinted out her window too. And— “Dad, there’s someone walking along the road, slow down!”</p><p class="p1">His father slowed the car to a snail’s pace.</p><p class="p1">“Elizabeth?” he asked. Not to confirm that there was, indeed, a lone figure walking in the snow just ahead of them and off the road to the passenger side of the car. That, Dad could see for himself now. He was asking what they should do.</p><p class="p1">“He’s not wearing a coat,” Mom said in answer, worry etching her words. “Or boots. What’s he doing out here?”</p><p class="p1">That was the question. And a lot of the answers were shady ones. Mom hummed low as she thought and considered.</p><p class="p1">“Keep driving, slowly. I’ll roll down the window and ask if he needs help.”</p><p class="p1">Dad nodded. Eugene wondered if they’d really pick up this stranger. Sure, he could really need help. But some roadside murderer could just as easily claim to need help.</p><p class="p1">They approached the man slowly—he looked like a dude, anyway; broad shoulders and tall as the boys on Eugene’s fencing team, with short blond hair. Fencing… That suit the boy was wearing, it looked a lot like the uniform at Exton.</p><p class="p1">“I think…” Eugene started as the car trundled up to the man. The boy. He didn’t even look over. But Eugene had unbuckled his seat, to his little brothers’ tattling protests, and was leaning as far over the center console and his mom as he could. Even in profile— “I know him!” Eugene said. “Dad, stop the car. He’s a kid from one of the other boys’ school that Kings Row fences. He’s not dangerous.”</p><p class="p1">“You sure?” Dad asked.</p><p class="p1">“Yes.” Eugene was sure. This boy was pompous and annoying but he wasn’t a roadside murderer. But what was <em>he </em>doing out here?</p><p class="p1">Dad stopped the car and Eugene climbed out of it before there could be any discussion about who should go. The blond boy in the white blazer kept walking, so pale he practically blended in with the rising blizzard.</p><p class="p1">“Jesse!” Eugene called, jogging to catch up with Exton’s captain.</p><p class="p1">Finally, the boy stopped and seemed to shake out of a trance. When he turned to Eugene, the blank expression he’d been wearing was falling away, his eyes widening and filling with fear. They darted around, taking in the trees, the car, the piles of snow in every direction. Then they landed on Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“Do you know me?” he asked in a voice that quavered slightly. His lips were tinged blue.</p><p class="p1">Do <em>you </em>know <em>me. </em>Something was really wrong. Eugene almost asked if Jesse was okay but stopped himself. The answer to that was pretty obviously <em>no. </em></p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. “Yeah, I know you. Your name is Jesse, and I’m Eugene. I’m here to help. It’s freezing, come with me and we’ll help you, see?” Eugene indicated the idling car, warm and inviting. But Jesse shrank away. Not surprising. But not convenient either.</p><p class="p1">Cautiously, Eugene took another step toward the spooked boy. He was shivering now. How long had he been walking in the cold?</p><p class="p1">“It’s okay,” Eugene said. “I know you, Jesse. And I want to help.” Jesse shook his head. “I can prove that I know you,” Eugene offered. “Would that help?” Jesse didn’t say anything in the affirmative but he was staying put, blue eyes watching Eugene warily for his explanation. “We both fence. That’s your school uniform you’re wearing—Exton. I don’t go there but I go to your rival school, Kings Row.” If this boy had had any sense of who he was, he would have scoffed and said that Halverton was Exton’s rival school, <em>not </em>Kings Row. Somehow, it boded ill that he didn’t make the correction. “Here, can I show you?” A tiny nod encouraged Eugene forward. He held out his right hand and traced along his thumb and palm. “These are my fencing calluses,” he said, offering the hand out for Jesse. Jesse looked down at his hand blankly. “You’ve got matching ones. But you’re a southpaw. They’ll be on your left hand, can you feel them?” Eugene asked as Jesse felt along his left palm. He nodded. “There, see? That’s from fencing, like I said. Do you want to check mine?”</p><p class="p1">Another nod and Jesse’s fingers reached out to take Eugene’s right hand in both of his and examine it closely. His fingers were freezing but they found what they were looking for.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse said softly to Eugene’s hand.</p><p class="p1">“Will you come with me? My family and I can help you.”</p><p class="p1">Again, a quiet, “Okay.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene smiled kindly at the boy and started to lead him back to the car. Jesse’s freezing fingers twisted into Eugene’s and he took the hand, fencing calluses pressed together palm to palm. Eugene didn’t pull free. He rolled open the car door with his left hand instead.</p><p class="p1">“Luna, in the back,” Eugene said. Luna looked ready to protest. “Please.”</p><p class="p1">“Luna,” Mom added warningly. Luna budged up and moved to the next row back with Junior. Eugene climbed into the car and retook his seat, Jesse sitting cautiously down in Luna’s previous spot before closing the door with a flighty glance at Eugene, who nodded encouragingly.</p><p class="p1">The car started moving and Eugene could feel Jesse’s tremors, whether from cold or fear, he wasn’t sure, but he clasped Jesse’s hand tighter and they stayed like that, palms pressed together between them, for the rest of the drive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“The snow’s too heavy to drive him back to his school,” Mom spoke in a hushed voice even though she had to know there was no point. All five of her children, plus the boy they’d picked up off the side of the road stood gathered just outside the kitchen where she and Dad discussed what to do.</p><p class="p1">“We don’t have service here,” Dad said, not countering Mom’s point, but adding something new to consider into the discussion. “We can’t call the police or the school to let them know he’s safe.”</p><p class="p1">“His parents will be worried sick,” Mom agreed, her voice sympathetic to the Costes’ worry over their son. If it had been Eugene that’d wandered off into the mountains and disappeared into a snowstorm…</p><p class="p1">“But he <em>is</em> safe,” Dad reasoned. “Safer here than on the road.”</p><p class="p1">“Or rolled off the side of the mountain in a car crash trying to get him home,” Mom sighed.</p><p class="p1">“I think waiting this storm out is our best option.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene and his siblings didn’t even attempt to look casual when Mom turned around to find them all lingering at the edge of the kitchen. She smiled a kind but harried smile—one Eugene recognized to mean she was feeling someone else’s pain but smiling anyway.</p><p class="p1">“Jesse,” she said. Jesse’s hand squeezed tighter against Eugene’s, though Mom was about the least threatening person in the world—less threatening than Eugene, for sure, but Jesse was like a flighty and wounded little duckling that’d imprinted on Eugene. Mom didn’t look offended at Jesse’s apprehension and continued to speak soothingly. “My husband, Kit, and I think it would be best if you stayed here with us until the storm blows over and we can get you home. Would you be okay with that?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse stared at Mom with those wide eyes he’d had since they’d picked him up. Then he looked at Eugene. Eugene nodded and Jesse mimicked the action.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse said.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Mom repeated, smile broadening. “Great! Why don’t you stay with Eugene in his room?” Jesse was nodding before she’d even finished. “Eugene, get him some dry clothes, please.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene pulled Jesse up the steps of the cabin and into the room there. It usually worked out that he and his brothers all shared the biggest of the bedrooms downstairs, but with Lolo and Lola gone for the winter, Mom and Dad were taking their room, leaving Eugene with the attic room they usually used. Luna always got her own room and Eugene would have gotten his own this time, too, if not for Jesse. But at least in this room, he didn’t have to fight for bathroom space with his three little brothers.</p><p class="p1">“You’re freezing,” Eugene said because Jesse’s white skin was still tinged blue and it was still cold to the touch—even the fingers wrapped in Eugene’s hadn’t completely warmed. “Here, the shower’s in here. You should take one. The towel’s there, and I’ll go get my stuff from the car and find you something to wear. Sound good?”</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse eventually agreed. He seemed reluctant to let go of Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“Is that all you can say?” Eugene teased lightly.</p><p class="p1">Jesse’s face fell into a frown Eugene had never seen on him before. Eugene hadn’t seen many expressions on Jesse’s face, his defaults all seemed to be haughty and superior, always subtly pleased with himself. Except Eugene had seen none of <em>those</em> expressions today. With his lip caught in teeth and his brows pulled together as if they were confused, Jesse looked like someone Eugene ought to be comforting, not teasing.</p><p class="p1">“What else should I say?” Jesse asked. “I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I’d say.”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry about that,” Eugene said, tucking Jesse’s hair behind his ear carefully. He really was freezing, the tip of his ear was red and cold as an icicle. “You don’t have to say any more than you want to. But don’t worry about what you should say. Just…say what you need to.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay. Now go get warm.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse did and it was over an hour before the water turned off again. If Eugene hadn’t been able to hear Jesse moving around in there, he’d have worried he’d slipped and cracked his head open. He seemed fragile enough in this state for something like that to happen. But Jesse peeked his head out of the door, holding his towel around his middle and looking healthy and pink. Eugene was relieved to see the color in his skin, to see pink on his lips instead of blue.</p><p class="p1">Eugene handed him his warmest flannel pajama pants and a sweater. Jesse changed quickly and when he shuffled out of the bathroom he looked both closer to and further away from the Jesse Coste Eugene had seen in the salle at Kings Row. He no longer looked on death’s door, but outside of his crisp uniform and with his hair tousled—artfully messy, but still messy—he looked like a boy, not a champion.</p><p class="p1">“Let me get you socks,” Eugene said, scanning Jesse over and finding his bare feet, already turning pale again.</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay.”</p><p class="p1">But Eugene didn’t listen. And when he handed Jesse the socks, Jesse put them on without prompting.</p><p class="p1">“Are you warm enough?”</p><p class="p1">“Mmhm,” Jesse mumbled.</p><p class="p1">“Dinner will be done by now, do you want to go eat?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene figured Jesse must have been hungry because it was the most enthusiastic response he’d gotten from him so far. On the way out of their room, Jesse took Eugene’s hand again and only let go to eat, though he sat so close to Eugene, their shoulders and thighs touched through the entire meal.</p><p class="p1">Nobody missed the way Jesse clung to Eugene but nobody said anything, either. Mom smiled at him. This smile, Eugene recognized too. It was the smile for someone or something she thought was particularly adorable. Luna mouthed <em>cute boyfriend</em> at him and he retaliated by pulling a face on her, one which he dropped quickly because Jesse looked over curiously. The guy really did have impressively wide eyes when they weren’t half-hooded in a smirk.</p><p class="p1">Jesse started yawning near the end of dinner. Finished with his own plate—he’d eaten several helpings—Jesse slumped against Eugene and let his head fall on his shoulder.</p><p class="p1">“I’m tired,” he said simply.</p><p class="p1">“You walked a long way,” Mom said. Eugene felt the way Jesse stiffened at the direct reminder of his adventure. Eugene slipped his hand under the table. Jesse’s was already there to meet it before he could seek it out.</p><p class="p1">“Do you remember anything?” Dad asked.</p><p class="p1">Jesse hadn’t been forthcoming with details but when Eugene had climbed into the car with Jesse in tow and gone around in introductions, he’d told his parents that Jesse didn’t remember who he was and Jesse hadn’t protested.</p><p class="p1">Now, Jesse shook his head against Eugene’s shoulder. “No. I don’t remember anything before Eugene calling me. Not about how I got there or…anything at all.”</p><p class="p1">Mom and Dad exchanged worried glances. This wasn’t something any of them knew what to do with but they were cut off from internet and phone lines—from civilization, Luna had said. But Jesse was in good health besides his memory. Eugene thought he’d be alright until they could get him home or to a hospital.</p><p class="p1">“I think we’ll go to bed,” Eugene said. His parents didn’t object and, when he stood, Mom asked Junior to clear the plates and then bid Eugene and Jesse goodnight.</p><p class="p1">Eugene set up the bed for Jesse and pulled out extra bedding to make himself a pallet on the floor. Then he returned to the linen closet and retrieved an extra blanket to spread on the bed. Jesse watched him do it and, amazingly, laughed. It wasn’t a big laugh, wasn’t loud or even prominent. It was just an upward twitch of lips, a twinkle of eye, a huff of breath that conveyed amusement.</p><p class="p1">“I’m not cold anymore,” he told Eugene. Eugene pressed the back of his hand to Jesse’s cheek.</p><p class="p1">“You still feel a little cold. You must have been walking for hours in the snow. In nothing but your school uniform. Stay warm tonight.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse climbed into the bed and pulled up all his blankets before sinking down under them, hair spilling across pillow. When he was settled, Eugene went to turn off the light. He got settled in his own makeshift bed but he could hear Jesse tossing and turning. Then came a sigh. And, finally, words.</p><p class="p1">“I’m scared,” Jesse confessed in a whisper.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want a light back on?” Eugene asked.</p><p class="p1">“No, I’m not scared of the dark. I’m…what if it happens again?”</p><p class="p1">“You mean, what if you wander off again?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene thought about it. It had to be scary to know your mind could shut down and rob you of memories, that your body could carry you anywhere without your knowledge or consent.</p><p class="p1">“I won’t let you,” Eugene decided. “I’m right here and I’ll make sure to stop you if you try to walk off like that again, okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Okay.” But, not even five minutes later, “Can you make sure of that from up here?”</p><p class="p1">“You…want me in bed with you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m scared I’ll lose myself—and that’s stupid because I <em>already</em> lost myself but I don’t want to lose myself even more. What if you don’t wake up in time to make sure I don’t get lost?”</p><p class="p1">All Eugene had needed was the confirmation. He was already lifting the covers and sliding into bed next to Jesse before Jesse had finished speaking. Jesse curled against him even as Eugene pulled him in and held him tightly, the way he seemed to need right now.</p><p class="p1">“See? I won’t let you go anywhere,” Eugene promised.</p><p class="p1">Jesse fell asleep peacefully.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Jesse continued to be quiet around Eugene’s family the next day. He wasn’t exactly chatty with Eugene, but he would talk to him more than anyone else and every time he needed something, he issued the request to Eugene, often close by his ear. Jesse was always close by; he’d taken up permanent residence on Eugene’s right arm, clinging to it when he couldn’t hold Eugene’s hand because Eugene <em>did</em> actually need his dominant hand sometimes and couldn’t always let Jesse have it clasped in his, calluses pressed reassuringly together. </p><p class="p1">The Labaos were an adaptable bunch and stepped around Jesse rather easily in their routine. Mom, of course, happily folded him into conversation over breakfast and lunch. The way she talked, you’d think she’d adopted Jesse, talking about going places and doing things and always functioning under the assumption that Jesse was not only welcome to come along but that he would. Jesse didn’t talk much in return but Eugene thought it helped him relax a little.</p><p class="p1">After lunch, it was time to break out the board games. The beauty of the cabin was that there wasn’t much else to do but spend time together. It was both the best and worst part of visits here but they always left with fun new memories together—some, of course, of the variety that was a lot funnier in hindsight. Today, <em>Betrayal at House on the Hill</em> was dug out of the trunk of the car and dropped on the floor in the playroom—the one were all the boys slept.</p><p class="p1">“You can be on my team,” Eugene told Jesse as Luna passed out characters and set up the board for play.</p><p class="p1">“But Jesse’s not too little to read,” Fritz protested. “I haven’t been on a team since I was seven. He should have to play his own character because he’s not a baby.”</p><p class="p1">At the suggestion, Jesse clung tighter to Eugene, arms like vices around his bicep and cheek pressed firmly into his shoulder. Eugene saw Fritz, sitting across from them, watch the movement. A little furrow formed between his eyebrows and Eugene knew that Fritz could see it—the desperation behind Jesse’s little shift. Jesse needed Eugene right now and so Fritz let Jesse have him, dropping his argument in favor of setting up his character stats.</p><p class="p1">In a steady current, Eugene murmured explanations about the game to Jesse as they played. Every now and then, Jesse nodded to indicate he was listening or understood. On their second playthrough, Eugene and Jesse were named the traitor and banished up to his room with the Traitor’s Handbook to figure out a strategy while the siblings figured out theirs.</p><p class="p1">“So we’re trying to make Luna marry this…<em>ghost bride</em> person?” Jesse asked, hand tangled in Eugene’s as they sat on the bed with the guide held out before them.</p><p class="p1">“Basically.”</p><p class="p1">“Why are we making one of our friends marry a ghost we just met?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene laughed at the phrasing, as if knowing the ghost for longer would make a difference in Jesse’s mind.</p><p class="p1">“We could be doing worse things to them than ghost brides,” he shrugged. “Fun, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Bizarre,” Jesse muttered.</p><p class="p1">“But fun.”</p><p class="p1">“I guess.”</p><p class="p1">“You doing okay?” Eugene asked, earning a <em>look</em> from Jesse. Eugene amended his question. “Is there anything I can do to make you more okay?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Jesse sighed. “It’s just—being with your family…it makes me wonder about mine. Do you think they’re worried?”</p><p class="p1">“Probably,” Eugene said, knowing it wasn’t a comforting answer. “They’ll be really happy to have you back safe.”</p><p class="p1">“But what if I don’t remember them, Eugene? What if when I get back to them, I don’t recognize them? What if I live with strangers for the rest of my life?”</p><p class="p1">“Hey now,” Eugene soothed, lifting his arm to wrap around Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse let go of his hand only briefly, catching it up again when Eugene was done repositioning. “You’ll go get checked out at the doctor’s and they’ll be able to tell you what’s happening to you and help you fix it. I’m sure you’ll remember your family.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene shuddered inwardly at the thought of forgetting his family, of never remembering them and all the time he’d spent with them.</p><p class="p1">“But what if—?”</p><p class="p1">“Then you’ll get to know and love them again,” Eugene said decisively. “Worst case scenario, you don’t get your memories back. But your family won’t be strangers to you no matter what because you can make new memories.” Would it be that easy, he wondered, to relearn fencing? The thought made Eugene hurt for Jesse. “You’re only sixteen, there’s still plenty of life left to live, so many years to fill with new memories and experiences one way or another.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sixteen?”</p><p class="p1">“Huh? Yeah—I mean, I think? You’re a year below me in school, so I assume you’ve gotta be right around sixteen.”</p><p class="p1">“Eugene!” Luna bellowed from downstairs. “Get back here! We’re ready to kick your butt!”</p><p class="p1">“That’s our cue,” Eugene said, standing up and leading Jesse back down the stairs.</p><p class="p1">They won the game by the skin of their teeth and Jesse read out their victory blurb from the handbook. Luna conceded that there were worse fates than getting a ghost wife and they’d have played again but Junior, who’d lost as traitor last time, was getting frustrated with losing so they packed it up for the day.</p><p class="p1">“Fun,” Jesse softly said in Eugene’s ear, finally agreeing with his claim from earlier.</p><p class="p1">“Maybe tomorrow you can even try playing on your own,” Eugene grinned.</p><p class="p1">“Maybe.” But Jesse’s hand tightened in Eugene’s, which made him think he’d have a teammate for at least one more day.</p><p class="p1">The weather remained relentless and brutal, the snow hardly having let up at all in the last twenty-four hours.</p><p class="p1">It was Mom’s suggestion that they put on a movie and since there was nothing better to do, they all piled into the living room. There were actually enough couches and squishy armchairs to seat them all so there was no squabbling for once, not even when Eugene took the comfiest loveseat.</p><p class="p1">Having a scared-half-to-death stranger attached to you at the hip had its benefits.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want a blanket?” Fritz asked Jesse kindly, offering one out of an armful he’d pilfered from the playroom.</p><p class="p1">Jesse glanced skittishly at Eugene, but reached for the blanket without Eugene’s advice.</p><p class="p1">“Yes,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”</p><p class="p1">“Welcome!” Fritz beamed, then trundled off to pile onto the couch with Marcus and Junior and the rest of the blankets.</p><p class="p1">Mom picked out the movie, and Dad came in with hot chocolate for everyone ten minutes in. They didn’t stay for the movie, though. Eugene had a feeling they were disappearing to discuss Jesse again. Maybe trying to get through to the internet.</p><p class="p1">“Is your family usually so…?” Jesse asked quietly.</p><p class="p1">“We’re on our best behavior for you,” Eugene whispered back. “Usually, we’re a lot louder.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse smiled and sipped at his hot chocolate.</p><p class="p1">They really were on their best behavior. Mom had chosen a movie that usually would have started riots for being too old or too mushy. But today, they watched it peacefully, cocoa in hand. When the credits rolled, the boys scrambled off to play elsewhere in the house, and Luna remained curled in her armchair, sound asleep.</p><p class="p1">“I want a locket,” Jesse announced, rearranging the blanket that covered him and Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“A locket? Like in the movie?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. If I had a locket with my name, I think—,” Jesse yawned. “I think that would be useful.”</p><p class="p1">“Maybe,” Eugene agreed, lifting his arm and offering Jesse access to his chest.</p><p class="p1">Jesse took the invitation and ducked his head under Eugene’s arm to rest his blond head against Eugene’s gray shirt. It wasn’t long before he followed Luna’s lead and dozed in a catnap.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He must be exhausted from his mysterious trek yesterday. </em>
</p><p class="p1">“How’s he doing?” Mom asked softly, coming up behind Eugene, trying to tame his hair into place out of habit. Eugene tipped his head back to look at her.</p><p class="p1">“He’s doing good. As good as I think he can be right now.”</p><p class="p1">She nodded, but her eyes were still sad.</p><p class="p1">“It looks like this storm doesn’t plan to break for several days. That’s what the weatherman was saying before we left too.”</p><p class="p1">“He’ll be okay.”</p><p class="p1">“I know,” Mom said, giving up with his hair and tousling it instead. “He’s got you looking after him. I just worry about his parents…”</p><p class="p1">“He didn’t have a phone on him,” Eugene said, remembering Jesse’s soggy clothes, pockets all empty of personal artifacts.</p><p class="p1">“It's a good thing we found him.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene nodded, looking down at Jesse. He didn’t think there were that many people who came up and down the mountain pass, especially during a snowstorm. It was unpleasant to consider Jesse staying out in that snow much longer, wandering in a trance. He’d already been so cold when they’d found him…</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Real lucky.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It is once again time to inform you of housekeeping stuff so here we go! I'll soon be posting my next Nichoji fic, which means this fic will probably go down to posting once a week on an off day from that one. Possibly, we'll switch them both to once every 4 days like usual, but for at least the next couple chapters, expect weekly updates and I'll let you know if that changes again! Thanks for reading and being flexible with me&lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Look what I found,” Luna called, bustling into the sitting room with an old book in her hands. It looked like…</p><p class="p1">“No way,” Eugene grinned, “is that Lolo’s old yearbook? I haven’t seen that in years!”</p><p class="p1">“It was under all those old Scrabble games,” Luna said proudly, plopping down her prize on the coffee table.</p><p class="p1">They’d already finished their board game adventures for the day but were still all sitting around the cleared table. Jesse had, true to Eugene’s prediction, been on his team again. Arms twined around Eugene’s, Jesse leaned forward a little to get a look at the faded cover.</p><p class="p1">Eugene reached out and grabbed the tome, flipping it open and reading through the signatures his grandfather had collected during his senior year in high school. He smiled, running his fingers over the old ink on the textured page.</p><p class="p1">“Oh man, Lunes, do you remember when Lolo used to pull this old guy out and tell us stories about all the things he got up to back in the day?”</p><p class="p1">“He has some great stories,” Luna agreed.</p><p class="p1">“Like what?” Jesse asked.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Fritz seconded. “Like what?”</p><p class="p1">Fritz was too little to remember any of the stories before the yearbook had gotten misplaced. Eugene flipped through the pages, looking for a good picture or person to pass on Lolo’s stories about.</p><p class="p1">The book naturally flipped to the page of the photographer’s club.</p><p class="p1">“Look,” Luna teased, “it’s your favorite page, Gene.”</p><p class="p1">“Why’s that lady missing her face?” Fritz asked, jabbing a finger at the girl in the middle of the picture, arms flung around her friends.</p><p class="p1">“Because she’s in Lolo’s locket,” Eugene said, batting Fritz’s hand off the page before he ripped it.</p><p class="p1">There was a jaggedly cut line from the bottom of the page up to the woman’s face, but the heart-shaped hole in the photo was cut out with the utmost care.</p><p class="p1">“That’s Lola,” Eugene explained, tapping their grandmother’s name at the side of the black and white photo. “She took most the pictures in this yearbook but she’s only in two. Her senior portrait and this one. Lolo says her laugh was always in his heart since the moment he heard it, so he cut out her laugh from his yearbook too. You’ve seen Lolo’s locket, Fritz. This is where that picture’s from.”</p><p class="p1">“Gross,” Marcus said, making gagging sounds.</p><p class="p1">“I think it’s sweet,” Jesse said. Eugene had almost forgotten he was there, he was getting so used to Jesse’s heat pressed against him he’d stopped noticing it.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene agreed. “Yeah, me too.”</p><p class="p1">“The movie made me think of it because of the locket,” Luna said, “but you used to love that old story, Gene. You used to say you wanted to find someone to keep in your heart too.”</p><p class="p1">“Did I?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh. I remember. We went through all your yearbooks that one time, do you remember? And you picked out all the boys whose pictures you’d want to cut out.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene remembered.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re so full of shit,” Luna said and he laughed because it was true.</p><p class="p1">“You’re not supposed to say shit,” Fritz said matter-of-factly. “But I won’t tell Mom.”</p><p class="p1">“Tell Mom what?” Mom asked, appearing over them in an instant.</p><p class="p1">“Nothing,” Fritz said, utterly unconvincingly.</p><p class="p1">“Hey, Ma,” Luna said, diverting attention from possible snitching, “look what I found.”</p><p class="p1">And that did the trick. Mom knew all of Lolo’s stories and she flipped through the pages of his old yearbook, telling them, not about the people in the pictures, but the woman behind the camera. Lola was Lolo’s favorite story.</p><p class="p1">Eugene still thought it was romantic.</p><p class="p1">“You wanted a locket too,” Jesse whispered to Eugene when the stories died down and dinner started cooking.</p><p class="p1">“Guess so.”</p><p class="p1">“Why didn’t you say?”</p><p class="p1">“Why? Do you want to get matching ones?” Eugene asked with a laugh but Jesse heated up all the way red.</p><p class="p1">“What did you do to him?” Luna asked, interest caught by the obvious embarrassment happening in Eugene and Jesse’s corner of the coffee table right now.</p><p class="p1">“It’s very warm in here, isn’t it?” Jesse asked valiantly.</p><p class="p1">“Oooh, looks like someone has a—,”</p><p class="p1">“Marcus,” Eugene said, cutting his little brother’s taunt off. “Why don’t you go help Dad with dinner?”</p><p class="p1">“Why don’t <em>you?</em> You’re the one that likes cooking.”</p><p class="p1">“Because,” Eugene started, then got stuck. It seemed tactless to say <em>because Jesse won’t let go of me.</em></p><p class="p1">“We can help with dinner if you want,” Jesse offered. “I don’t know how to cook—I mean, I don’t think I know how to cook. But I don’t mind.”</p><p class="p1">“Alright. If you’re sure,” Eugene said and Jesse nodded so they stood and escaped to the kitchen.</p><p class="p1">They were put to work on chopping. Jesse held the knife and frowned down at it as if he’d never seen one before. It was entirely possible he <em>hadn’t</em> ever seen a kitchen knife up close and personal before. Spoiled rich boys didn’t have any need for them.</p><p class="p1">“Here,” Eugene readjusted Jesse’s grip, “let me show you.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse was easy to manipulate into position, and after a couple of cuts with Eugene’s hand over his on the handle, Jesse took to it well enough. Eugene was far faster but he had more practice. Jesse never complained. He even helped set the table when it was time.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you boys for dinner,” Mom said, coming to the table with the others. “It smells delicious.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene noticed Jesse’s pleased smile at his inclusion but when he caught Eugene looking, he tried to hide it by giving his food his whole attention. But Eugene had seen it. Maybe there was hope for spoiled rich boys after all.</p><hr/><p class="p1">Jesse watched Eugene curiously after climbing into bed, clearly waiting to see where Eugene planned on sleeping. His eyes weren’t just watchful. They were worried. Eugene had noticed Jesse’s expression darken as dinner wound to an end and it came time for sleep. Something about sleeping made the guy nervous and Eugene couldn’t blame him. When Jesse was awake, he could at least have some sense of himself and his body. When he gave up that control to sleep, who was to say he wouldn’t wake up hollowed-out again?</p><p class="p1">Eugene climbed into the bed. Jesse was huddled against his side as soon as Eugene was settled, arms latched around him and holding tight. Jesse’s speed and ferocity in holding to him shouldn’t have startled Eugene, but it did a little. He’d never met anyone so shamelessly clingy. But, then, Jesse was a special exception. Wrapping his own arms around Jesse, Eugene reminded himself that Jesse was just scared and lost, clinging to him like a life raft in a storm for some small sense of security.</p><p class="p1">“Did you ever find a boy to put in your locket?” Jesse asked.</p><p class="p1">“I never got a locket.”</p><p class="p1">“And a boy?”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t have one of those either.”</p><p class="p1">“Do you still want one?”</p><p class="p1">“Want one what? A locket or boy to put in it?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would like it on the record that the only reason little Eugene wasn't picking out pictures of boys <em>and</em> girls to put in a theoretical locket is because we know he's been going to a Kings Row school since he was at least 7 and therefore there were no girls <em>in</em> his yearbook (unless he was looking to marry a teacher ig)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Did I schedule this fic specifically to land on the odd multiples of seven this month + October 13th because it's a rad date?<br/></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Eugene,” Jesse whispered, tugging at Eugene’s sleeve. “I’m thirsty.”</p><p class="p1">“Warm or cold?” Eugene asked, standing up from the couch and pulling free of Jesse’s grasp.</p><p class="p1">“Warm,” Jesse requested.</p><p class="p1">Eugene nodded, not even asking if Jesse wanted something sweet. He already knew the answer. It wasn’t long before he returned to the couch with his Lola’s favorite peach tea, loaded with way too much cream, just the way Eugene was sure Jesse would like it. Jesse took the tea gratefully in fingers that poked out from the loose cuffs of Eugene’s sweater.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” Jesse murmured into the warm mug.</p><p class="p1">Even with his hands occupied, Jesse managed to cling to Eugene as soon as he sat back down, slotting into his side and leaning against his shoulder. Eugene couldn’t quite ward off the immediate thought he had when glancing at Jesse just then, looking snuggly warm under the blanket and in Eugene’s sweater, mug clasped in hands and held close to his chest.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Cute.</em>
</p><p class="p1">It had been three nights since Eugene had coaxed a frozen boy into his family’s car and warmed him up, and the word had been lurking in Eugene’s mind for days now. It felt wrong to think of Jesse as anything other than someone who needed help. Like he was somehow taking advantage of Jesse’s vulnerability by finding it cute. By finding <em>him</em> cute. But it was impossible to ignore, especially when Jesse’s long bangs fell into his face and Eugene saw his nose scrunch, tickled by the loose strands. He swept them aside and tucked them back behind Jesse’s ear.</p><p class="p1">Jesse peered up at him with cornflower blue eyes and then looked back down at his tea with a secret smile. And Eugene thought he looked sweeter than that tea of his tasted.</p><p class="p1">“Mom,” Fritz called, wandering into the big room where Mom and Dad, and Eugene and Jesse sat watching a movie.</p><p class="p1">“Yes, my love?” Mom asked as Fritz draped himself over her.</p><p class="p1">“I’m bored.”</p><p class="p1">“Hi bored, I’m Dad.”</p><p class="p1">Fritz was groaning and Eugene was laughing even before Dad had finished with the joke. Fritz had not come out here for jokes.</p><p class="p1">“Can we go sledding?” Fritz implored.</p><p class="p1">Mom looked out the window. It wasn’t storming at the moment, though the roads were still unsafe for driving.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t see why not,” Mom decided. “Go tell the others and let’s go to the sledding hill.”</p><p class="p1">Fritz jumped to his feet and ran off to raise the alarm.</p><p class="p1">“Do you boys want to come?” Dad asked. “I’m sure we’ve got extra snow gear.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene liked playing in the snow and this place had the <em>best</em> sledding spots, but he’d noticed the way Jesse shrank further into him and the blankets at the first mention of sledding. Eugene looked down at him just to be sure. Jesse gave the tiniest shake of his head, almost imperceptible.</p><p class="p1">“Nah, we’re good here.”</p><p class="p1">Luna campaigned to stay at the cabin too but Mom insisted she come with them for some outdoor time. Eugene and Jesse got the evil eye from her on the way out for escaping the outing.</p><p class="p1">“It’s weirdly quiet,” Jesse said after the door closed on the grand sledding procession.</p><p class="p1">“Welcome to my world. Everywhere feels too quiet after getting used to this bunch.”</p><p class="p1">“They’re nice.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">“So are you.”</p><p class="p1">“You think so?” Eugene asked and Jesse nodded, head slipping onto Eugene’s chest and settling there.</p><p class="p1">Looking down at Jesse now, Eugene was unable to see his face, finding himself presented only with buttercup blond hair.</p><p class="p1">Eugene almost laughed at himself for that thought. And he <em>did</em> snort.</p><p class="p1">“What? What’s funny?”</p><p class="p1">“Nothing. Just—you’re like an artist’s wet dream, that’s all.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m <em>what?”</em> Jesse asked, voice as loud as Eugene had heard it since picking him up. But his voice wasn’t angry, just surprised, confused, maybe a little amused. He pulled off Eugene to twist a judgmental look at him.</p><p class="p1">“You’re made up of flowers,” Eugene explained. Only, that didn’t really explain anything. Jesse still stared at him in bemusement. “Buttercups,” Eugene said, lightly passing knuckles over Jesse’s bangs, “cornflowers,” tapping the corner of Jesse’s eye, “white lilies,” trailing fingers down Jesse’s cheek and stopping at his parted lips, tracing very lightly across his Cupid’s bow, “and peonies.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene realized what he was doing and dropped his hand. He was just lucky Luna hadn’t been here to see that or he’d never have lived it down.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry,” Eugene said, clearing his throat. There were roses now too, blossoming across Jesse’s cheeks. But he had the good sense not to point them out. It was about the only good sense he seemed to have today. “Are you finished with that?” he asked, pointing to Jesse’s mug and its dregs of tea.</p><p class="p1">Jesse yielded the tea to him easily. It was good to get away from Jesse’s pressing heat for a moment and Eugene took his time getting himself a glass of water. He brought one for Jesse too, placing it on the coffee table before sitting back down.</p><p class="p1">Jesse didn’t lean up against him.</p><p class="p1">“Are you an artist?” Jesse asked.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“I asked if you’re an artist.”</p><p class="p1">“Man, do I <em>look</em> like an artist to you?”</p><p class="p1">“Maybe. You’ve got gentle hands.”</p><p class="p1">“Is that what it takes to be an artist?”</p><p class="p1">“I think it helps.”</p><p class="p1">He just kept staring at Eugene with wide, curious eyes, expecting an answer.</p><p class="p1">“I’m no artist,” Eugene said. Jesse kept staring at him. “But,” he sighed, “I can draw a bit.”</p><p class="p1">“Can I see?”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t bring my sketchbook.”</p><p class="p1">“Then draw something for me,” Jesse said, leaning forward excitedly. “Please?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene sighed again, standing up. He shouldn’t have said anything.</p><p class="p1">“Stay there,” he instructed.</p><p class="p1">It took ten minutes to track down a pad of drawing paper, but when Eugene returned to the couch with it tucked under an arm and a pencil in his hand, Jesse beamed.</p><p class="p1">“No looking until it’s done,” Eugene said. “I don’t like hoverers.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse agreed without protest, turning back to the TV and setting eyes on the movie instead of on Eugene.</p><p class="p1">Eugene got situated, back against the armrest of the loveseat and one leg up on the cushions to prop the journal on. He got to work, sketching in loose, soft lines. Realism wasn’t his usual style—he liked to doodle emojis and épées in the margins of his notes, liked to work in thick, bold lines. But that didn’t suit Jesse.</p><p class="p1">Eugene could hear his art teacher in his mind telling him to draw what he saw, not what he knew. He did; he studied Jesse carefully and rendered his features on paper as accurately as possible, simplifying him down to fit on the page. Long lashes and thin brows, sharp nose, and resting mouth all found their place in sweeping pencil strokes, sweater taking vague shape around long neck and disappearing into nothing. It was the hair that gave Eugene trouble. The floof of it was impossible to capture perfectly.</p><p class="p1">“Turn this way a little,” Eugene said absently as he erased Jesse’s bangs <em>again.</em></p><p class="p1">“Why?” Jesse asked, turning slightly.</p><p class="p1">“Perfect, stay right there.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene took Jesse in with darting glances, checking him against the sketch. His hair really was a pain in the ass…</p><p class="p1">“Are you—are you drawing <em>me?”</em></p><p class="p1">“Mhmm. What else would I draw? The lamp?”</p><p class="p1">“I thought you were drawing something from your head!”</p><p class="p1">“Nah. I’m no good at drawing people from my head. I need a reference.”</p><p class="p1">He thought he had it now. Yes, that would have to do.</p><p class="p1">“Are you done?” Jesse asked as Eugene tossed his pencil to the table.</p><p class="p1">“Yup. There you are.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene spun the drawing for Jesse to look at. He couldn’t have done too horribly, the way Jesse was taking in the portrait with awe. Almost, he reached out to touch it.</p><p class="p1">“Can I have it?” Jesse asked.</p><p class="p1">“Self-absorbed, much?”</p><p class="p1">“It’s just…no one’s ever drawn me before. I don’t <em>think</em> anyone’s ever drawn me before. And you’re good. I look—it looks—I’d like to keep it. Please.”</p><p class="p1">“Sure,” Eugene shrugged, tearing out the page. “If you want it, it’s yours.”</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” Jesse said, taking the page carefully.</p><p class="p1">Eugene had never known Jesse to go anywhere in the house without him. But he stood now and climbed the stairs to their attic room. When he returned, his hands were empty and he latched back onto Eugene’s arm. Eugene might have expected some more independence after his display of self-sufficiency, but Jesse huddled close to him again for the rest of the day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>mmmm listen. Eugene hand-draws emojis on shit and they look prettyyy good. Does that mean he’d be a good portrait artist? absolutely not. Am I going to pretend it does for the purposes of this fic? absolutely.<br/>Shoutout to <a href="https://chamallowlover.tumblr.com/">Julie</a> for planting the idea of Eugene drawing Jesse in my head months ago lmao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Think you can play on your own today?” Eugene asked in Jesse’s ear when they set up <em>Betrayal </em>after lunch. Predictably, Jesse’s fingers pressed harder into Eugene’s bicep, holding tighter. “You can still sit next to me,” Eugene assured. “I’m not trying to get rid of you.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse considered as he watched Luna pass out the character tiles. When she got to him, holding out the remaining one in an offer, he reached out and took it. Eugene smiled as Jesse straightened up and briefly relinquished his hold on Eugene to set up his stats.</p>
<p class="p1">As soon as he was done, his hand found Eugene’s and didn’t let go again. That was alright. Jesse had latched onto his left hand and Eugene didn’t need that one to play. The real trouble was always when Jesse insisted on holding his right hand. He still liked to feel the fencing calluses best, Eugene knew. But today, for the first time, Jesse had let Eugene switch him over to his other side without complaint. They were making progress. Little by little, Jesse really did seem to be growing less scared.</p>
<p class="p1">They played three rounds, the last of which should have landed Jesse as traitor, but Eugene saw him sneaking down his knowledge stat when no one was looking. If anyone else noticed, they didn’t call him on it and the traitor, which called for the player with the highest knowledge, worked out to be Luna.</p>
<p class="p1">After she kicked their asses, they dispersed, the younger two running off to play, and Junior and Luna pulling out cards. Jesse had exhausted himself playing <em>Betrayal </em>if his head lolling onto Eugene’s shoulder was any indication, so Eugene stationed them back on the couch to watch more old movies.</p>
<p class="p1">“Smells like dinner’s on the way,” Eugene noticed some hours later. Jesse sat up to look over toward the kitchen. “Do you want to go help?” Eugene asked when Jesse didn’t settle back down.</p>
<p class="p1">Amazingly, Jesse nodded.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">Eugene woke up.</p>
<p class="p1">“Where are you going?” Eugene asked, voice rough with sleep.</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse, whose shifting had woken Eugene up, paused.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Jesse said.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene realized that he’d unthinkingly circled a hand around Jesse’s wrist and he made himself let go of it now. Jesse continued his climb over Eugene, leaving the bed feeling empty until he padded out of the bathroom again and slipped back under the covers, returning to Eugene’s arms.</p>
<p class="p1">Freezing hands slipped up the back of Eugene’s shirt and pressed into skin.</p>
<p class="p1">“It gets cold during the night,” Jesse said, burrowing into Eugene.</p>
<p class="p1">“It does,” Eugene agreed, recovering from the surprise of Jesse’s icicle hands on his back and letting them stay there even though his instinct had been to shove Jesse off him.</p>
<p class="p1">But that wasn’t true. Eugene’s instinct was to shove cold hands and feet off him, maybe start a wrestling match over the offense. But his other instinct, the one that had developed and taken root in the last four days, was the exact opposite of shoving Jesse away.</p>
<p class="p1">“You woke up,” Jesse said, words muffled and breath warm against Eugene’s chest.</p>
<p class="p1">“I told you I would.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1">The next day, Jesse agreed to go sledding. It was Marcus who asked to go this time and, when Mom asked Eugene and Jesse if they wanted to tag along, Jesse surprised them all by offering a quiet “okay.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You look like a marshmallow,” Eugene told Jesse as they pulled on snow gear.</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse, zipped up in a gloriously poofy white parka and fluffy white earmuffs and a long crocheted scarf—also white—that they’d found in a closet, frowned at Eugene. And Eugene realized it was the closest to teasing he’d really come with Jesse thus far. He’d forgotten himself and the circumstances and had just spoken as he would have to anyone, but Jesse clearly wasn’t sure what to make of it. Silently, Jesse mouthed the word—<em>marshmallow</em>—as if trying to make sense of it. Trying to decide if he should be insulted or not.</p>
<p class="p1">“All toasty warm?” Jesse asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Eugene said with a laugh. “That too. A toasty warm marshmallow. You got your gloves?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse held them up and Eugene nodded in approval, Jesse’s hand slipping into his as they walked back down the stairs from their attic room.</p>
<p class="p1">“Eugene,” Jesse said, halting them halfway down. “You’re not wearing snow pants.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Because you’re wearing mine. Now come on, let’s go before they leave without us.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But—won’t you be cold?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ll be fine,” Eugene dismissed. “It makes me feel better to know you’re not freezing to death.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse let Eugene pull him the rest of the way down the stairs, but Eugene could swear the fingers around his clamped tighter.</p>
<p class="p1">They trekked across deep snowbanks as glimmering white flakes continued to fall lightly around them, the tracks and paths carved two days ago already buried and forgotten in all the snow they’d gotten since. The sledding hill was immaculate.</p>
<p class="p1">It was only once they’d arrived that Jesse let go of Eugene’s hand to pull on his gloves. Eugene did likewise.</p>
<p class="p1">“We’ve only got the five sleds,” Eugene said, holding up the reins on the yellow one he’d dragged behind him. “You alright with sharing?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Cool, I’ll let you go down first if you want.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse’s eyes widened and he shook his head.</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t want to go alone.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene should have guessed. He got the sled in position and sat on the back of it, gesturing a hand to the spot in front of him. Jesse climbed into the empty space and leaned back against Eugene, who wrapped arms around him reflexively.</p>
<p class="p1">“Ready?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Ready.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene pushed them off and they went careening down the hill, a gasp and a laugh marking the start of their descent. Jesse pressed hard against Eugene and he held to Eugene’s arms around him like a safety bar on a rollercoaster all the way down the slope. Snow sprayed up and beat with the wind against their faces and through their hair.</p>
<p class="p1">When they drifted to a stop, Eugene craned his neck to look at Jesse’s face and found his eyes shut tightly.</p>
<p class="p1">“Too much?” he asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“No,” Jesse said, “let’s go again.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You sure?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I am,” Jesse said, eyes finally opening. “We went a lot faster than I expected.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Fun, right?” Eugene asked.</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse’s face split into a smile so bright and dazzling, it completely caught Eugene off guard. This wasn’t the smug smirk of Jesse Coste, fencing champion, or the shy, timid smile of a lost boy finding his footing. This smile was all Jesse. Whoever that was.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes,” Jesse agreed. “Fun.”</p>
<p class="p1">Climbing back up the hill, Jesse’s mittened hand overlapped Eugene’s on the twine of the sled. It didn’t do anything to help pull the thing—if anything, the suddenly limited maneuverability was a hindrance. Eugene appreciated the hand anyway. Back at the top, Jesse let go to allow Eugene onto the sled and followed quickly after, fitting as neatly as before in the space left for him. It was impressive, all things considered, just how well the two of them managed to fit.</p>
<p class="p1">Luna crested the hill, returned from her own first launch down the mountain and she smirked at them as she positioned herself in her purple saucer. Eugene recognized the gleam in her eyes and had the impulse to press down over Jesse’s earmuffs and block him from hearing whatever Luna was about to say.</p>
<p class="p1">“You know, Gene,” she started innocently, “I think you’ve been looking in the wrong yearbooks all this time.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene reached out and shoved his little sister hard on the shoulder, starting her spinning down the steep incline both their sleds were perched on. With a shriek—that might have been a curse—Luna grabbed at Jesse’s leg and dragged them off the precipice too.</p>
<p class="p1">“Race you!” Eugene shouted, closing arms tighter around Jesse and leaning them forward to try and gain speed.</p>
<p class="p1">“Losers,” Luna yelled up at them when her sled leveled out first.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene and Jesse coasted to a stop near her and her gloating.</p>
<p class="p1">“You only won because I very generously gave you a head start,” Eugene told her, very seriously.</p>
<p class="p1">“Pushing me off a cliff isn’t giving me a head start, asshole.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Fine, I won’t be so nice next time.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene prodded Jesse into standing and they took up the sled in tandem again, huffing back up the hill after Luna.</p>
<p class="p1">The lot of them stayed out for hours playing in the snow, Eugene and Jesse racing his siblings down the hill and then, when sledding grew repetitive, starting a snowball fight. Jesse shrieked so loudly when Luna nailed him square in the face with a snowball—the girl had a crazy arm, Eugene kept telling her she ought to try out for the softball team—that Eugene was sure he’d got an ice chunk to the eye or something.</p>
<p class="p1">He hadn’t, his face was just red and cold and wet and his mouth twisted in a pout as he came to duck behind Eugene and bury his face into his back.</p>
<p class="p1">“Running away?” Luna challenged.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes!” Jesse replied, completely unfazed by the implication of his cowardice. He stayed there, hidden behind Eugene until it came time to pack up and head home.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene sent Jesse into the shower first and then stripped out of his clothes. All their snow gear was down in the mudroom, but Eugene’s jeans were soaked through and his legs stung with the cold. It had been worth it though. He had just barely pulled on a fresh pair of boxers when the bathroom door burst open and Jesse poked through it.</p>
<p class="p1">“I was just wondering if—oh!”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse froze like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and fixed on Eugene. For a moment, that’s all he did—stood and stared in shocked silence. Then a magnificent blush spread across every inch of visible skin.</p>
<p class="p1">“Sorry!” he squeaked, snapping his head away from Eugene and lifting a hand to act as a blinder between them. “I just wanted to ask if you should shower first, since I stole your pants—your <em>snow</em> pants. I thought you must be really hot—cold! Really cold. And so you should warm up first.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene had to work hard not to laugh. It was flattering, really, to know that Jesse Coste thought he was hot. But it was hilarious how badly he was stumbling over it. Eugene wondered if the typical Jesse Coste was this smooth or if whatever had stolen his memories had stolen his game too. Eugene kind of hoped this was genuine. It was…cute.</p>
<p class="p1">“Thanks for offering,” Eugene said, grabbing a sweater off the bed and pulling it over his bare chest in an attempt to spare Jesse’s nerves. “But I’m alright. You go ahead and shower, I’m happy to wait.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But—,”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m good, Jess. Promise.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse wavered another moment but relented, returning to the bathroom. Eugene heard the shower start not long after, but he noticed that Jesse kept it short tonight. He avoided eye contact with Eugene as he came out but when it was time to go down to dinner together, Jesse’s hand didn’t hesitate to find his, and his chair was pushed as close as ever all through the meal.</p>
<p class="p1">Everyone was tired from sledding and snowball fights so it was an early night. By now, it felt right to have Jesse’s weight and warmth pressed against him and Eugene fell asleep knowing he’d wake again if that weight shifted or that warmth left him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Eugene?” Jesse asked, head resting on Eugene’s chest and hand twitching just slightly, pulling the fabric of Eugene’s shirt into his palm like he wanted to tangle his fingers into it and hold on tight.</p>
<p class="p1">“Hmm?” Eugene lowered the book he’d been reading. They were back in bed already—it had been an extremely lazy day with a late morning and a lot of lounging around the house and, now, an early night.</p>
<p class="p1">“Who am I?” It was quietly asked, like Jesse hated to bring it up and admit that he didn’t know. “What is my name? My full name. I don’t…I don’t know it. Only Jesse.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” Eugene said, realizing with horror that he’d never mentioned. He should have. It felt wrong to know more about Jesse than Jesse knew about himself, sad to think that Jesse didn’t even know his last name. “Jesse Coste. There’s an <em>e</em> at the end of that because you’re too fancy to just be named Cost without the superfluous <em>e</em>.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse laughed lightly. It was a good sound. Eugene put aside his book for the night</p>
<p class="p1">“Am I fancy?” Jesse asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“Very fancy,” Eugene said decisively. “A prince among men.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse didn’t say anything in response, staying put as Eugene’s fingers played through his hair the way they had for the forty minutes they’d been in bed.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re Jesse Coste,” Eugene said after a pause spent trying to pull together what he knew of the boy laying on his chest, “number one épéeist in the nation. And you’re amazing.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m…?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah, you are. You’re the captain of your fencing team and the son of an Olympic gold medalist. Individual épée,” Eugene said before Jesse could ask. “He’s coached you since you were a kid. And now everyone says you’re following in his footsteps.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Do you say that?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know. I don’t think I really said much about you before. But I think you are. Nah, I know it. I know you’re going to the Olympics and I wouldn’t be surprised if you bring home gold. I just…”</p>
<p class="p1">“You just what?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Worry,” Eugene sighed, picking up the hand curled into his chest and splaying it open, running his thumb over the calluses that proved Jesse’s dedication to fencing. “I worry about you. I don’t want you to lose this. To lose fencing. If you don’t get your memories back, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to regain your skill fully, even with muscle memory and a great coach. Fencing is—I <em>know </em>how much it means to you. The way you fence, I can tell that you love it. I don’t want you to lose it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You sound so sad,” Jesse said, head shifting on Eugene’s chest to peer up at him as his fingers loosely curled around Eugene’s, which still held his hand carefully.</p>
<p class="p1">“I am. You’re a brilliant fencer, Jesse.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But I’m not sad. I don’t remember that. I don’t remember it being important to me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I know. So I’ll be sad for you because you don’t know to be right now.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse thought that over for a long moment, eyes fixed steadily on Eugene all the while.</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you,” Jesse said quietly.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene nodded, trying to shed his melancholy. But thinking about this hand never picking up an épée again when it was so clearly made to hold one was as sad as the thought of Jesse trying to regain his skill and his love for the sport and never finding it fully again. Without forming the thought first, Eugene brought Jesse’s hand to his lips and brushed them over the calluses he’d felt so often against his palm.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re brilliant,” Eugene said into the hand before releasing it back to his shirt and returning his own to Jesse’s head. “And you deserve to remember that.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene couldn’t shake his melancholy and he could tell that Jesse couldn’t shake his own fears either. But the blond hair slipping through Eugene’s fingers and the pale hand tangled fully into his shirt helped. It helped them both, he thought.</p>
<p class="p1">“Do you want me to tell you about the matches I’ve watched you in?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene did. He told Jesse every fact and story of himself he could think of until the weight on his chest turned limp and Jesse’s fluttering eyelids stayed closed.</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">“Who the hell are you?”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene blinked awake to find Jesse leaping out of the bed and backing away from it mistrustfully.</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesse? What’s wrong?” Eugene asked, slowly and evenly negotiating from the bed so as not to startle Jesse.</p>
<p class="p2">“Stay where you are,” he snapped. “I’m warning you!”</p>
<p class="p2">“Have you lost your memory again?”</p>
<p class="p2">“My memory?” Jesse asked with a sneer. “I don’t know what…I…Eugene?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah, that’s right,” Eugene soothed. “You remember me. Do you remember you?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course I do.”</p>
<p class="p2">“What’s your room number at school?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Three-oh-four. Why?”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene didn’t answer, just waited for Jesse’s brain to process and sort everything. When it did, Jesse stumbled a little bit, like the weight of all those backlogged memories was too much all at once. Eugene rushed to him and helped steady him. When he wasn’t pushed off, he helped Jesse back to bed and deposited him there.</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse buried his head in his hands. Eugene sat next to him at a respectable distance and gave him time.</p>
<p class="p2">“What happened to me?” Jesse asked plaintively.</p>
<p class="p2">“I don’t know.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I was packing to go home for the holidays. And then…and then I don’t know. I don’t remember anything about leaving. I was packing. And then I was on the side of a road in the snow. I don’t know how I got there.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You must have blacked out. But, hey, you’re alright now, yeah? And you’ve got your memories back. That’s gotta be good news.”</p>
<p class="p2">“My dad—!” Jesse shot up, panicked. “He’ll be worried sick! It’s been almost a week and—!”</p>
<p class="p2">“There’s nothing we can do about that until it’s safe to drive down. Try to take it easy.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Take it easy?” Jesse laughed. It sounded manic and stressed. “I’m going insane and my dad must think I’m dead, how am I meant to take anything easy right now?”</p>
<p class="p2">“You’re not going insane. And you’re <em>not </em>dead. We’ll get you back to your dad as soon as it’s safe and you can go see a doctor. But it’s got to be a good sign that you’ve remembered who you are. Everything will be alright, Jesse.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I want to go home.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I know. But it’s not—,”</p>
<p class="p2">“I want to go home!” Jesse shrieked. “You’ve all but kidnapped me to this cabin in the woods, I demand you take me back to civilization right now or I’m calling the police.”</p>
<p class="p2">Was he serious?</p>
<p class="p2">“Dude,” Eugene said plainly, “there’s no cell reception up here. Weren’t you listening? We <em>can’t </em>bring you home and you <em>can’t </em>call the cops.”</p>
<p class="p2">“So you’re holding me hostage,” Jesse said, body and voice fully animated in a way Eugene hadn’t seen before and that was in start contrast with the quiet, timid boy he’d shared this room with for almost a week.</p>
<p class="p2">“We’re not holding you hostage. We picked you up off the side of the road to help you, you walnut.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Sounds like something crazy cannibal people would do.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You would have fucking frozen to death if not for us,” Eugene retorted, losing patience.</p>
<p class="p2">“It wasn’t snowing too hard yesterday,” Jesse accused, glaring at Eugene. “Why didn’t you take me home then, hm?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Because the roads were unsafe. Dad checked.”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse’s glare fell into a scowl.</p>
<p class="p2">“So I’m just expected to stay here living like a peasant from the eighteen-hundreds until the mountain pass melts? Which will take what? All winter?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Peasants?” Eugene shook his head. “What is wrong with you?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Nothing! Everything!” Jesse threw up his hands like Eugene was being impossible and banged out of the room, pattering down the stairs with swift and heavy footfalls.</p>
<p class="p2">“Christ,” Eugene muttered but followed after him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Everything alright?” Mom asked when they spilled into the kitchen, empty but for her and her toast.</p>
<p class="p2">“Perfectly,” Jesse said. The frantic and exasperated tone he’d used with Eugene had vanished, a smooth, charming smile taking his face and dripping in his words. “I have good news, I’ve regained my memory.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh!” Mom almost dropped her toast, but then she smiled. “That’s wonderful, dear. You must be relieved to have them back.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I am,” Jesse confirmed. “And I’m more anxious than ever to return to my father. Do you think the roads might be safe to drive today? I don’t want to put you and your lovely family in danger—,” Eugene snorted. Mom shot him a disapproving look. “—but if it’s at all possible…”</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course. Kit thinks that if the weather holds today, we’ll be good to drive home tomorrow.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tomorrow?”</p>
<p class="p2">The inquiry was polite and Jesse’s sweet boy-next-door smile didn’t waver, but Eugene was sure he was dying to pitch a fit. Maybe he had every right to, given what he’d been through—what he was going through. But Eugene didn’t appreciate being called a kidnapper. Or a peasant. Or a crazy cannibal.</p>
<p class="p2">“I know this must be very difficult,” Mom said sympathetically. “But I promise we’ll get you home just as soon as we can.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Jesse said, though he hadn’t reacted nearly so nicely when Eugene had said the same thing, “I truly appreciate it. And everything you’ve done for me.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">Jesse did not spend the day clinging to Eugene. He spent it scowling at Eugene instead, situated in an armchair far away from him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Who’s up for <em>Betrayal?” </em>Luna asked when she emerged from her room late in the morning.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m always up for some <em>Betrayal,” </em>Eugene said, abandoning the TV remote and standing to relocate. “Jesse, you want to play?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Why would I want to play?” Jesse asked with disdain. “I detest board games. They’re boring and juvenile.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wow,” Luna said, looking between him and Eugene. “Cupid’s arrow fall out or did your memories come back?”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse’s shoulders tensed and a flush crept across his face.</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesse got his memories back this morning,” Eugene explained. “Let’s play in the boys’ room. We’ll be too loud for the TV if we stay out here.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Sure.”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene looked back over to Jesse but all he could do was frown. Jesse clearly wanted to be left alone. So Eugene left him alone until lunchtime.</p>
<p class="p2">They were still seated next to each other but their chairs stayed a respectable distance apart. It was fascinating watching Jesse as he was now. Before, he’d seemed small and kept quiet, speaking briefly, softly, and rarely. Now, he filled up the room easily. He talked at length about himself without ever quite sounding like he was bragging. He recounted many of the matches Eugene had told him last night but from his own perspective. He spoke of all the places he’d been on tournaments. He recalled trials on his way to captaining his team to victory. But he listened, too, when Mom commented on something and expertly wheedled her into saying more, all the while acting as the perfect, attentive listener. Even when he wasn’t the one talking, Jesse felt like the most important person in a conversation.</p>
<p class="p2">“Kiss ass,” Luna whispered in Eugene’s ear. He almost spat milk out his nose when she did. He managed to avoid it, but only barely.</p>
<p class="p2">“Sorry,” he said when Mom looked at him curiously for his spluttering cough, “went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse cut him a suspicious glance but Eugene just shrugged. As soon as he looked away, though, Eugene made eye contact with his sister and nodded.</p>
<p class="p2"><em>Totally, </em>he mouthed back. Because it was true. Jesse always gleamed bright and perfect when adults’ eyes fell on him. The perfect picture of a good boy. Eugene had always known he was a phony and the switch between his charm with Mom and Dad and his sullen petulance with the rest of them only proved it.</p>
<p class="p2">Notably, Jesse did not clear his plate after lunch, nor did he help clean up.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m thirsty,” Jesse said after Eugene had finished helping with the dishes.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh yeah?” Eugene asked, raising an eyebrow at Jesse’s whining inflection on the words. “What do you want me to do about it?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Get me something to drink.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You have legs. Get yourself something to drink.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You would have gotten me something to drink yesterday.”</p>
<p class="p2">That was true. But yesterday, Jesse hadn’t been so entitled, like Eugene was some servant who ought to be pleased to do anything and everything Jesse demanded.</p>
<p class="p2">“That was yesterday. This is today.”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse crossed his arms, his mouth ticking down. He glanced around the living room but they were the only ones in it.</p>
<p class="p2">“You <em>used </em>to be nice to me.”</p>
<p class="p2">“And you <em>used </em>to be cute,” Eugene shot back before running that particular sentence through his brain-to-mouth filter. But he couldn’t help it, Jesse’s entire demeanor had shifted. And it <em>kept </em>shifting, dependent on who could see and hear him. Eugene didn’t like ingenuine people.</p>
<p class="p2">“What does that mean?” Jesse demanded angrily.</p>
<p class="p2">“It means that you act like a well-behaved pup when the grown-ups are around but, really, you’re a spoiled child. Go get your own water.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I want tea.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m not making you tea.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ugh!” Jesse threw himself deep into his chair. “This is the absolute worst.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Agreed.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You’re ruining my Christmas!”</p>
<p class="p2">“It’s only the twenty-third.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Then you’re ruining my entire break!”</p>
<p class="p2">“The feeling is mutual,” Eugene assured him. In the moment, he meant it.</p>
<p class="p2">It wouldn’t have even occurred to him to think it yesterday.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“I’m not watching this,” Jesse said stoutly, arms crossed and still fuming from Eugene’s refusal to get him something to drink. Instead of getting anything himself, Jesse had crossed his arms and affixed a pout to his face.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So not cute.</em>
</p><p class="p1">“Well,<em> I’m</em> watching this,” Eugene said, clicking play. “Deal with it.”</p><p class="p1">“There’s nothing else to do here but watch movies, can’t you at least put on something that’s not awful?”</p><p class="p1">“How do you know this movie is awful?”</p><p class="p1">“Please,” Jesse scoffed, “it’s black-and-white. I hate black-and-white films.”</p><p class="p1">“We’ve watched, like, three of them already this week and you didn’t seem to mind any of those.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, because what I like when I’m brainwashed is obviously indicative of what I like generally.”</p><p class="p1">“What? So you hate them now? Retroactively?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse hesitated.</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re full of it.”</p><p class="p1">“I am not. I didn’t like any of those movies and I don’t want to watch this one and that’s the truth.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene was about to persist in telling Jesse to deal with it, but he saw Mom give him a warning look as she passed through.</p><p class="p1">“Fine,” he said, clicking pause and tossing the remote down on the empty cushion of the loveseat. “Then go pick one out.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know what you have.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s why I said to go and pick one out, not to tell me what you want.”</p><p class="p1">“Tell me what the options are,” Jesse insisted.</p><p class="p1">“The options are we watch this movie or you go pick out one from the cabinet.”</p><p class="p1">“Can’t you just—?”</p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p1">“You would have done it if that other boy had asked.”</p><p class="p1">At first, Eugene thought Jesse was referring to one of his little brothers. But then he realized who, exactly, Jesse meant.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t see that other boy here,” Eugene shrugged. “So are you going to pick out a movie or are we watching this one?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse shot to his feet and for a moment, he looked on the verge of stomping off. But, in the end, he conducted himself toward the cupboard of VHS tapes and DVDs, plopping down in front of it with no small amount of theatrics before rifling through it. He took ages to decide and when he did, Jesse handed the movie to Eugene to deal with putting into the player. Eugene did this task without pushing back because it seemed easier than wrestling Jesse into doing it himself.</p><p class="p1">Jesse <em>also</em> hadn’t bothered to put away the movies he’d been sorting through. Eugene shot him the stink eye and got a snide nose turned up at him for it. And then, as he turned to pick up Jesse’s mess, he caught a stuck-out tongue from the corner of his eye. Eugene ignored the kiddish antagonism and knelt to collect the movies spread across the carpet.</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” Eugene said, picking up the last of them, “I love this one.”</p><p class="p1">“Which one?” Jesse asked. Eugene raised an eyebrow at the question and Jesse’s interest—no matter how small—in anything he had to say.</p><p class="p1">Eugene flipped the cover for Jesse to see. Jesse made a face.</p><p class="p1">“Got a problem with <em>Mulan?”</em></p><p class="p1">“It looks childish. I don’t watch cartoons.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re serious?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">“Man, you are missing out. So you’ve never even seen it?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse shook his head.</p><p class="p1">“Huh,” Eugene said and left it at that, slipping the VHS back into place before finally putting on Jesse’s selected film.</p><p class="p1">Eugene returned to his seat and settled in. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jesse squirming around in his chair. He didn’t bother asking why.</p><p class="p1">“The sun is in my eyes,” Jesse voiced his grievance aloud, just as Eugene had suspected he would.</p><p class="p1">“Close the blinds,” Eugene suggested dispassionately.</p><p class="p1">“The window it’s coming from is <em>that </em>one,” Jesse pointed to a high window across the room, “and it doesn’t have any curtains.”</p><p class="p1">“Then move your chair. You can; we move the furniture around all the time to fit us.”</p><p class="p1">“But the sun will just follow me eventually.”</p><p class="p1">“Then just deal with it. The sun is setting, give it an hour and it won’t be able to bother you.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t want to sit here with sun in my eyes until it sets. How am I supposed to enjoy the movie that way?”</p><p class="p1">“Damn, Jesse, what do you want me to do about it?” Eugene asked, out of what little patience he’d had. That seemed to be a trend with Jesse Coste. “I can’t control the sun. Just move to a different spot.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse sniffed indignantly but he actually stood up to move, leaving the beam of sun to fall on an empty red chair. Eugene expected him to cross over to the couch. Jesse did not. He came right for the loveseat and perched next to the opposite armrest as Eugene was lounging against. He was as far away from Eugene as possible, but, on a loveseat, that wasn’t very far.</p><p class="p1">“That works,” Eugene said.</p><p class="p1">“This seat has the best view in the room,” Jesse replied in a prickly sort of way.</p><p class="p1">“Aw, shucks,” Eugene said with a smirk, “thanks.”</p><p class="p1">“What?” Jesse looked over at him questioningly and caught sight of the smirk. He looked away again quickly, going an angry red. “You’re not—that’s not what I meant!”</p><p class="p1">Eugene laughed but left Jesse alone, letting them both focus their attention on the TV. They made it the whole way through without issue and Jesse even looked comfortable in his spot by the end of it, having scooted back to sit in it like a reasonable person.</p><p class="p1">“We’ll start dinner in a bit,” Mom said, poking into the living room during the last minutes of the movie. “So no more snacking until then.”</p><p class="p1">“Should we be counting on your help again tonight, boys?” Dad asked.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, no,” Jesse laughed bashfully, “I don’t want to get underfoot. Honestly, it was nice of you to suffer me for so long. I’m a terrible cook, I really don’t belong anywhere near a kitchen.”</p><p class="p1">“You weren’t any trouble,” Dad pshawed with a wave of his hand.</p><p class="p1">“And you’re a better cook than you think,” Mom encouraged. “Dinner these past few nights have been lovely.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene watched a wrinkle pass over the pleasant mask of Jesse’s face. He didn’t want to help with dinner, that much was obvious to Eugene. But he also didn’t want to outright say that and come across as less than the perfect, charming guest he liked to appear under adult supervision. Eugene was so tempted to watch Jesse crash and burn. Either he’d have to break his good boy act and say he had no interest in being helpful, or he’d have to cook and hate every second of it. Or…</p><p class="p1">“Actually,” Eugene cut in, inwardly sighing at himself. “Jesse’s never seen <em>Mulan</em> and I wanted to show it to him before we return him home tomorrow, but there’s not a TV in our room so…”</p><p class="p1">“Alrighty,” Dad said with a nod. “Have fun.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s a good one,” Mom agreed.</p><p class="p1">And with that, Eugene and Jesse were alone again. Jesse looked over at him with suspicion.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” he said falteringly, unsure if Eugene’s kindness could be trusted.</p><p class="p1">“You are <em>not</em> going to complain one single bit about this movie,” Eugene warned him sternly, standing up to put it in.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse agreed. The way he said it—the volume and the particular quality of his voice—made Eugene think of the quiet <em>okay</em>s he’d gotten endlessly out of Jesse during the previous days of his stay here, especially the first two or so. “Unless it’s really terrible, then I reserve my right to complain.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene groaned as he slid in the tape and then fell obnoxiously heavily on the loveseat so as to disrupt Jesse’s careful arrangement on it<em>. </em></p><p class="p1">“Sure, alright, you have every right to complain. But I’ll sacrifice you to the kitchen if you do.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse scrunched his face. It might have been due to Eugene’s threat, but it could also have been meant for the movie; the speakers happily boomed out <em>COMING SOON ON VIDEO AND DVD</em> with a couple loud, unfurling notes that made Eugene think specifically of this place and of watching movies with Lolo and Lola. Jesse didn’t seem to have any such nostalgic sentiments over the sound because his face remained decidedly affronted as he watched the intro to the ads.</p><p class="p1">“Speaking of kitchens,” Jesse said, turning judgmental eyes on Eugene. “I can’t believe you made me <em>cook.”</em></p><p class="p1">“What’s wrong with cooking?”</p><p class="p1">“Do I look like some cafeteria worker to you? It doesn’t suit my station.”</p><p class="p1">“Your station?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes. My station. What if I got burns? Or cuts?”</p><p class="p1">“Then they’d heal? You said it best, though. Cooking really doesn’t suit your station.”</p><p class="p1">“Exactly,” Jesse nodded. Then paused, sensing something wasn’t right. Slowly, he asked, “And what do you think my station is?”</p><p class="p1">“The prince of brats, of course. Anyway, Your Highness, I didn’t make you do anything. <em>You’re </em>the one that offered to help cook dinner, remember?”</p><p class="p1">“I—,” Jesse frowned. No, he hadn’t remembered. But, yes, he remembered now. Eugene grinned. “You still took advantage!” he snapped.</p><p class="p1">“Can’t even cook for yourself,” Eugene shook his head sadly. “How spoiled. And you’ll expect your wife to take care of all the domestic stuff for you, I’m assuming?”</p><p class="p1">“Heavens no. I’ll have staff to take care of it. And I <em>won’t </em>have a wife.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m not surprised,” Eugene snorted.</p><p class="p1">“Then why’d you say it?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene shrugged.</p><p class="p1">“Guess I wondered if you’d correct it. Now shut up, it’s starting.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s not starting, unless I horribly misunderstood the movie from the cover and it’s really about two dogs eating spaghetti.”</p><p class="p1">“The <em>experience </em>is starting. So shush and experience it.”</p><p class="p1">With a last huff, Jesse did. And he enjoyed the experience, Eugene was sure of it. But he kept a firmly unimpressed scowl on his face whenever he thought Eugene might be looking. Eugene was sneakier than Jesse was observant, so he knew the scowl was an act put on because he didn’t want Eugene to know he liked this silly cartoon.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Definitely not cute. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>in case you were wondering, Eugene had put on a western and Jesse’s right. he wouldn’t have liked it. he’s not a very yeehaw kind of person smh</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Jesse didn’t offer to clear dinner. No surprises there. And, anyway, he was in good company. None of Eugene’s siblings bothered to help with dinner cleanup either.</p><p class="p1">“Do you think the roads will be safe tomorrow?” Jesse asked, coming to hover in the doorway to the kitchen where Eugene and his parents were. The awkward hovering was a dead giveaway of his nerves.</p><p class="p1">“I think so,” Dad confirmed cheerily. “We should be set to go in the morning.”</p><p class="p1">“Great,” Jesse beamed. “Thank you.”</p><p class="p1">And he was gone.</p><p class="p1">“An interesting boy, isn’t he?” Mom asked.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, interesting,” Eugene agreed. He supposed that fakers were interesting, in a way. Just not a good way.</p><p class="p1">“I like him,” Mom said, probably picking up on Eugene’s sardonic thoughts about the specific ways in which Jesse Coste was interesting. “He’s very polite.”</p><p class="p1">“He’s—I mean, yeah, sure, he’s got perfect manners. When he decides to use them,” Eugene added under his breath. Mom heard it—she had crazy good ears—but ignored it.</p><p class="p1">“He’s a bit different now, isn’t he?” she asked softly. Eugene narrowed his eyes at her. “Not quite as…sweet.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever.”</p><p class="p1">“Just because he’s not as easy to take care of, don’t forget to be kind, Gene. I bet you anything he still needs you.”</p><p class="p1">“I hope he doesn’t,” Eugene said firmly. Mom’s unimpressed look told him just how much she believed that.</p><p class="p1">“People aren’t always what we expect. They’re not always what we were hoping for—,”</p><p class="p1">“Gah!” Eugene interrupted, yanking the last plate from her and drying it haphazardly before putting it away. “I’m gonna leave now.”</p><p class="p1">Mom laughed, patting his back as he fled from the kitchen and her attempted feelings talk.</p><p class="p1">“Goodnight, Eugene!” Dad called.</p><p class="p1">“Time for bed?” Jesse asked, looking up from the old magazine he’d found. No—not a magazine. Lolo’s old yearbook. “So early?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m going to bed,” Eugene said. “You can come if you like. Or stay up. Doesn’t matter to me.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse said, brow furrowing.</p><p class="p1">Jesse didn’t move to stand up and join him, so Eugene assumed he’d have some time to fall asleep before Jesse came to bed.</p><p class="p1">Eugene’s assumption proved promising; Jesse was still nowhere to be seen by the time he was ready for sleep. But Eugene turned off the light and got comfortable under the blankets only to be interrupted by a sliver of light across his face mere moments later. Jesse slipped into the room and, almost, Eugene believed he’d make this easy. This Jesse, however, was anything but unobtrusive and quiet. Soon, bright and unforgiving light was flooding the room. Eugene groaned, sitting up to glare at Jesse—if he’d wanted, he could have navigated to bed easily in the dark. Instead, Jesse froze just inside the door and frowned at it in the full cast of the light.</p><p class="p1">“You can’t sleep there.”</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“In the bed,” Jesse clarified helpfully. “You can’t sleep there.”</p><p class="p1">“Why not?”</p><p class="p1">“Because <em>I’m </em>sleeping there.”</p><p class="p1">“We’ve already shared the bed six times, one last night won’t kill you, bro.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t want to,” Jesse insisted stubbornly. “You were willing to sleep on the floor before, I don’t see why you can’t sleep there now.”</p><p class="p1">“You sure do change your mind a lot. You’re the one who wanted—,”</p><p class="p1">“I’m changing my mind now because I didn’t <em>have</em> my mind before. Why do you even care, anyway? Is it that you like sharing a bed with me so badly? Or do you just enjoy forcing people into bed with you?”</p><p class="p1">“Jesus Christ.” Eugene didn’t think Jesse could possibly insult him any more today. “Fine.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene got off the bed, dragging a blanket and a pillow with him. Dropping them on the floor, he raised an eyebrow at Jesse. Jesse nodded primly in response.</p><p class="p1">“That will do nicely for you,” he said.</p><p class="p1">“I should make <em>you </em>sleep on it.”</p><p class="p1">“But you won’t. And you can’t. Because the mattress here is already bad enough, I’m not subjecting my body to a night on the floor.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh no,” Eugene deadpanned, “not your body. It’s too delicate for a common mattress, I don’t want to think about what the floor would do to it. Sure would be a shame if anything messed up the one good thing you’ve got going for you.”</p><p class="p1">“Actually,” Jesse said, shoving past Eugene on his way to brush his teeth, “I’m made of flowers, remember?” Damnit, Eugene <em>did </em>remember that. “So I’d say I’ve got my face and hair going for me too.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene knew better than to argue when all the evidence was stacked in Jesse’s favor. So he let Jesse escape into the bathroom with his victory and made himself comfortable on the floor, waiting for Jesse to come out and turn back off the lights.</p><p class="p1">“Um…” Jesse said, figure casting shadows as he shifted in the bathroom doorway. He was doing that a lot today. Hovering and shifting about at the edge of things.</p><p class="p1">“Yes?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t like to sleep in the clothes I’ve been in all day. And I’ve already been wearing these,” Jesse gestured at the faded t-shirt and sweats Eugene had put him in last night, “for at least twenty-four hours.”</p><p class="p1">It was on the tip of Eugene’s tongue to tell Jesse he hadn’t heard a question or a request in all of that. But he figured being difficult himself took away some of his right to think of Jesse as difficult so he held his tongue.</p><p class="p1">“Clothes are in the drawer there,” Eugene said, pointing.</p><p class="p1">Jesse faltered before coming forward into the room. He could have whined that he’d never had to pick out his own clothes before but either he’d realized he was happier not leaving his wardrobe up to Eugene or he’d decided to try and be less difficult too, because he went to the drawer and dug through it wordlessly, disappearing again after finding everything he needed.</p><p class="p1">When Jesse came out of the bathroom, this time turning off the light behind him, he was wearing one of Eugene’s favorite shirts—a heather grey and navy blue baseball tee that was soft and fit as comfortably as a second skin. It didn’t fit that way on Jesse—not like a second skin. But it still looked plenty comfortable.</p><p class="p1">“Can you get the light?” Eugene asked, genuinely wondering if Jesse would. “Or are you afraid of demons coming for you in the dark?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t believe in demons,” Jesse sniffed, going to turn off the light as if to prove it.</p><p class="p1">“Really? I do.”</p><p class="p1">“How fortunate. You can snuggle with whatever crawls out from underneath the bed tonight.”</p><p class="p1">“Hey, sounds like a plan to me,” Eugene agreed as the lights turned off. “I like to snuggle.”</p><p class="p1">“I noticed.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse stepped over Eugene to get to the bed and Eugene felt the movement of displaced air brush over him, heard the swish of Jesse’s pants, and saw the brief outline of his legs in the dark before it was all gone and the quiet creaks of the old bed replaced it.</p><p class="p1">Eugene expected the creaks to die down but they didn’t; Jesse continued tossing and turning as the minutes ticked by. This was all starting to feel very familiar to Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“I’m chilly,” Jesse said at last, the bed giving one last defeated creak as Jesse seemed to throw himself hard into it in dissatisfaction. “You took one of the blankets. Get me another one.”</p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p1">“But I’m <em>cold.”</em></p><p class="p1">“You know where to get more blankets, you got one today to watch movies with.”</p><p class="p1">“I want you to get me one.”</p><p class="p1">“Why?”</p><p class="p1">“Because I don’t want to go downstairs. I’m comfortable.”</p><p class="p1">“I thought you said you were chilly?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse made a frustrated noise that almost sounded like a scream into a pillow.</p><p class="p1">“Yesterday you would have gotten me an extra blanket,” Jesse’s muffled voice floated down from the bed a second later, pouting and disgruntled and…something else, too. Something like hurt.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene agreed, brushing off that thought because there was no way it was right, “because yesterday you were a scared kid.”</p><p class="p1">“And I’m not anymore?” Jesse asked. Eugene was startled to hear Jesse’s raw question. He didn’t know which was more surprising, that Jesse Coste was scared or that he was admitting to Eugene he was afraid. “I might remember who I am, but I don’t remember who <em>you</em> are because there’s nothing <em>to</em> remember. I don’t know you. And I’m out in the middle of who knows where with a bunch of people I’ve never met before and I don’t know when I’ll get home or if this will happen again and—and I’m scared.”</p><p class="p1">That crack in Jesse’s voice sent a wash of shame over Eugene. Of course Jesse was scared. Just because this self-assured and proud version of Jesse didn’t express it with clinging and quiet words for Eugene’s ears only didn’t mean he wasn’t still afraid. Just because Eugene found him annoying instead of cute didn’t mean he deserved to feel safe and be treated nicely any less.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Eugene said slowly. “How can I help?”</p><p class="p1">“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”</p><p class="p1">“I can’t promise you that.”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t let me wander off.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene let the words hang in the air, not really sure what to do with them.</p><p class="p1">“I can’t sleep,” Jesse elaborated without voicing outright his request.</p><p class="p1">“Bud, you <em>just</em> kicked me outta that bed, are you seriously inviting me back into it?” Eugene asked to be sure.</p><p class="p1">“Just get up here,” Jesse snapped.</p><p class="p1">
  <em>I did ask what I could do…</em>
</p><p class="p1">Eugene abandoned his pallet on the floor, bringing the extra blanket with him. He spread it over the bed—over Jesse—before folding back a corner of the layered quilts to climb into the bed. Jesse moved over to allow it, shying into the wall. But, as soon as Eugene was under the covers, Jesse abandoned the wall, slotting as easily against Eugene as he had last night and the night before and all the nights before that.</p><p class="p1">In the dark, this boy felt no different from the boy who’d clung to Eugene all week.</p><p class="p1">“Aren’t you going to tell me a bedtime story?” Jesse asked and the illusion was broken. “Maybe you could tell me of all my achievements again.”</p><p class="p1">“You don’t need to hear it,” Eugene returned, closing his eyes and pretending Jesse would actually let him go to bed without throwing a fit first.</p><p class="p1">“So you only said all that stuff because I <em>needed to hear it?”</em></p><p class="p1">“Yup.”</p><p class="p1">“Then it was all lies?”</p><p class="p1">“Nah, lying isn’t my style. And how could I have lied? You remember now. You know perfectly well that you really are everything I said you were.”</p><p class="p1">“But last night, it sounded like you liked—like you were more impressed by all that I am than you’re acting now.”</p><p class="p1">“Go to bed, Jesse.” Then, at Jesse’s intake of breath, gearing up to complain, “I told you, you don’t need to hear it. You already know you’re the amazing Jesse Coste, you don’t need me telling you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Eugene was almost too comfortable to wake up. It seemed a waste to pull out of the fuzzy warmth of sleep but a soft sound pulled him out anyway. Something between a sigh and a small shift of vocal cords that sounded like a hitched <em>uhnn</em> had escaped lips pressed close to his ear.</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene hadn’t wanted to wake up but he wanted to wake Jesse up even less. He was sure to be accused of coercing Jesse into his bed during the night now that morning had come and Jesse’s fears of forgetting himself were bound to be less prominent than they had been the night before, when Jesse had coerced <em>him</em> back into the bed. Eugene debated sneaking out of it now but he suspected doing so would wake Jesse up as surely as purposefully nudging him awake would; Jesse was tangled up with him so completely, it would take some serious jostling to work his way out of the hold.</p>
<p class="p1">In the end, Eugene allowed Jesse to remain stuck on him, soundly asleep and snuggled in tight. His hair tickled against Eugene’s skin and he smoothed it down and out of his face, reminded of two nights ago that felt like a different lifetime when he’d lazed on the bed just like this, absently playing soft hair through his fingers and telling stories about a golden prince to his shadow.</p>
<p class="p1">“I remember,” Jesse said, not sounding groggy or muggy with sleep at all. “I remember now about fencing. I keep thinking that I almost lost it and I didn’t even know to be sad about it. I…wanted to say thank you for being sad for me.”</p>
<p class="p1">It was the most pleasant thing Jesse had said to him since remembering himself. Eugene wondered how long he’d been awake thinking about everything, going through his memories and making sure they were all still there when he’d woken up.</p>
<p class="p1">“’Course,” Eugene offered, accidentally ruffling the hair his hand was still planted in. He dropped the hand when he realized. “Fencing’s the one thing we’ve got in common, about <em>that, </em>at least, I knew how you’d feel.”</p>
<p class="p1">Since Jesse was already awake, Eugene remorselessly pushed himself up. Jesse was forced to adjust accordingly.</p>
<p class="p1">“You get to go home today,” Eugene reminded him before he could grumble. “We should pack. The sooner we’re ready to go, the sooner we can start down the mountain.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p3">It took three hours to get everyone fed, the car loaded up, and the cabin in shape for Lolo and Lola’s return.</p>
<p class="p3">“Why are there so many gift boxes in the trunk?” Jesse asked, climbing into the car and taking Luna’s usual seat. She glared at him on her way to the back.</p>
<p class="p3">“Because we were planning to do Christmas here,” Eugene explained, buckling in. “But that obviously got derailed.”</p>
<p class="p3">“Which is A-Okay,” Dad said, also climbing into the car after one last check of the house. “Christmas is just as good at home as it is here. The important part is being together with family.”</p>
<p class="p3">Jesse didn’t look at all remorseful for derailing the Labao family Christmas so Eugene didn’t think Dad’s assurance had really been necessary.</p>
<p class="p3">The drive was long and the roads weren’t great, but they managed. Jesse spent his time staring out his window silently. Eugene spent it singing along to his dad’s CDs—quietly. Jesse didn’t look like he was in the mood for music. He looked a little sick, truthfully, as their journey got underway. Eugene wasn’t sure if he was worried about making it down the mountain safely, nervous about returning back to his life and facing the scary reality of what had happened to him, or just queasy to be seeing the long, snow covered path he’d stumbled up by himself last week again. Eugene almost thought to offer Jesse his hand but that somehow seemed like a bad idea. So he softened his voice instead, not wanting to assault Jesse with the loud hubbub drives often turned into in this car. His siblings all had a similar idea, keeping to themselves in the back instead of starting shouting matches across rows.</p>
<p class="p3">It was Mom who declared they were within service the second they were, not Luna. That was a first. But as Jesse perked up at the news, Eugene understood why she’d been hovering over her phone.</p>
<p class="p3">“Do you know your father’s number?” Mom asked, yielding her phone to Jesse before he even asked.</p>
<p class="p3">“I do,” he said, already dialing.</p>
<p class="p3">“Boys,” Mom said sternly, pausing Dad’s music, “Jesse’s getting on the phone, stay quiet, okay?”</p>
<p class="p3">They all nodded, including Eugene and Dad. Luna rolled her eyes. But she’d long since grown used to being included under that label.</p>
<p class="p3">“Dad?” Jesse said into the phone. “It’s me.”</p>
<p class="p3">What followed was a stream of assurances that he was okay, he was alright, nothing was wrong, no, he wasn’t hurt, he was safe—it took almost five minutes of this before Jesse moved on to an explanation of his whereabouts and the reason behind his disappearance. Eventually, he handed the phone to Eugene’s mom and she talked for some time with the man on the other end of it. The call finished back with Jesse, with a quiet <em>love you too. </em></p>
<p class="p3">Mom had coordinated with Robert Coste to meet up at the base of the mountain, where the roads were plowed and wide enough for safe navigation. He was already out of his car by the time Dad pulled theirs to a stop, and it wasn’t even in park by the time Jesse was scrambling from his seat too, leaving the door wide open behind him. Eugene couldn’t reach it to shut it again so he had to unbuckle and haul himself over into the vacated seat, but he paused before closing the door.</p>
<p class="p3">Jesse hadn’t made it even five steps out of the car before his dad scooped him up in just about the biggest hug Eugene had ever seen, the expression on his face one of relief so intense, it looked like pain for the brief moment Eugene saw it before it got buried into the side of Jesse’s head with a kiss to his temple. There were tears in his eyes when he stopped pressing kisses into his son’s hair. Eugene supposed that was what it looked like when you got your kid back after seven days assuming the worst.</p>
<p class="p3">Mom and Dad got out of the car too and, when Robert finally released Jesse from the monster hug, he shook firm hands with them both and thanked them.</p>
<p class="p3">Jesse, still held under his dad’s arm, looked over at Eugene then. He nodded once, brief and small, but this was a last thanks. Eugene nodded back, half raising his hand in a goodbye before pulling the car door shut between them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Mom came into the living room and paused the TV. Everyone looked up at her. The ground was still littered in wrapping paper from Christmas morning and nobody had changed out of their pajamas, all piled around the TV with hot chocolate to watch some movie Dad loved.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’ve just gotten a call from Robert Coste,” she started.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene’s stomach flipped.</p>
<p class="p1">“Is Jesse—?”</p>
<p class="p1">“He’s invited us to a late Christmas party on the twenty-seventh.” She smiled at Eugene. “Jesse is perfectly alright.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Do we have to go?” Luna asked, pulling a face.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yes. We needed to return Jesse’s uniform anyway, he forgot it.”</p>
<p class="p1">The paper bag with the not-quite-pristine white uniform had been discovered under Luna’s seat when they'd gotten home and unpacked yesterday. It had slipped everyone’s mind when Jesse had left.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene hadn’t expected to see Jesse again so soon. Two days…it wasn’t a lot of time.</p>
<p class="p1">“Ma, can I borrow the car tomorrow?”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">The Costes lived large. Marcus whistled as they pulled into the massive, circular driveway of the mansion and Eugene couldn’t blame him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Think we need to valet the car?” Luna asked.</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene thought their dad considered the question before pulling into an empty spot himself, apparently having decided that there was no valet.</p>
<p class="p2">“Remember to be on your best behavior,” Mom told them all as they unbuckled. “We’re guests here.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wouldn’t want to leave a poor impression with the upper-crust,” Luna muttered to Eugene, and he snorted his agreement.</p>
<p class="p2">The fountain in the middle of the driveway was glittering with fairy lights that matched all the trees and the trim on the house. Even before they were let into the festivities, the sounds of music and conversation and holiday cheer were evident. Inside, the warmth and scents enveloped them at once and wrapped them back up in Christmas.</p>
<p class="p2">“Welcome, welcome,” Robert Coste said merrily, smile broad and genuine as he greeted Eugene and his family. “We’re so glad you could make it! Come on in,” he said, ushering them into the thick of the celebration. “Jesse, say hello.”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene hadn’t noticed Jesse right away, lurking behind Robert as he was, but that sweater he had on was as bright a red as Nick’s favorite shade. Hard to miss, but miss it, Eugene had. For someone so ill-suited to shadows, Jesse did an impressive job of hiding there. But now that Eugene had noticed the cheery cable knit sweater, no amount of shadows or shrinking could disguise the boy wearing it.</p>
<p class="p2">“Merry Christmas,” Jesse said, almost shyly. But then all unease fell away from him and his shoulders pushed back into the confident stance Eugene recognized from fencing matches. “I hope you all had a lovely holiday.”</p>
<p class="p2">“We did,” Mom said, smiling at Jesse fondly. “How was yours?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Quiet.”</p>
<p class="p2">Robert’s hand landed on his shoulder as he said it and gave a squeeze. Eugene thought that meant their Christmas had not been <em>entirely </em>quiet or pleasant. He’d bet doctors were involved.</p>
<p class="p2">Robert introduced them to everyone they passed as he gave them a tour of the place. The boys ran off with the hoard of other kids running through the place almost immediately, and Luna slunk away, Eugene had no doubt, with the intention of hunkering down in a dark corner next to an outlet. But she got stopped on her way by a bubbly girl with a neon streak in her hair. She looked grumpy to have been intercepted, but Eugene knew his little sister. She’d have blown the girl off if she’d really been set on it. He tucked that away for later teasing, turning back to the remaining tour group only to find he’d been left behind.</p>
<p class="p2">“Are you from Kings Row?” a soft, melodious voice questioned before Eugene even had time to look around for his missing parents. Ah well, they could manage without him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah, that’s right,” Eugene answered as he turned toward the sweet voice and found it attached to yet another top fencer. Eugene really had a habit of running into those.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m Marcel, from Exton.”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene nodded. He’d known that.</p>
<p class="p2">“Eugene,” Eugene replied, “from Kings Row.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You’re the one who found Jesse, aren’t you?” a new voice asked. Also attached to a member of the Exton fencing team. One of the twins, though Eugene never knew which one was named what. This was the one that looked like he had a personal storm cloud that followed him around.</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesse doesn’t want to talk about it,” Marcel shushed him before turning back to Eugene with a smile, mouth poised to say something more tactful than his companion. It didn’t get the chance.</p>
<p class="p2">“We had to talk to the police, the least he could do after pulling a disappearing act like that is tell us what really happened.” Aster-or-Thomas Levantis looked at Eugene expectantly.</p>
<p class="p2">“It’s not really my business to tell,” Eugene said, which made Marcel nod approvingly.</p>
<p class="p2">Grumpy narrowed his eyes at Eugene and pointedly took Marcel’s hand—as if Eugene had said it specifically to impress Marcel and not because it was common decency not to go sharing other people’s trauma.</p>
<p class="p2">“Sorry about him,” Marcel sighed, apologizing in the way Harvard sometimes would on Aiden’s behalf. Evil Twin looked about as sorry as Aiden ever did on those occasions. “Do you want us to show you the food? There’s this delicious quiche Mrs. Robinson made.”</p>
<p class="p2">With nothing better to do, Eugene agreed and let the mismatched couple lead him through to the kitchen where an abundance of food was spread out. Marcel was right, the quiche <em>was </em>good. And Marcel was also nice, so Eugene stuck around and talked with him, Stormy occasionally offering his two cents in the conversation—probably to make sure Eugene hadn’t forgotten that Marcel was spoken for.</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene saw his brothers tear through the living room he and the Exton boys had migrated to, and even spotted glimpses of his parents, and of Luna and the neon-haired girl. And Jesse, too. His sweater really was hard to miss. Eugene noticed that he always stayed near to Robert—there wasn’t a single time in ninety minutes he saw one without the other.</p>
<p class="p2">“So did you fuck him or what?”</p>
<p class="p2">Marcel hissed something that must have been the boy’s name but Eugene didn’t catch it because his brain was still working on the question the boy had asked.</p>
<p class="p2">“What?” Eugene had to ask, unable to process it.</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesse,” the sour-faced twin said with a nod in the direction Eugene had idly been watching. “You’ve hardly taken your eyes off him all night. What happened between you two?” He leaned over Marcel in order to edge closer to Eugene with interest.</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course I didn’t fuck him,” Eugene said, still reeling at the question and a little disgusted by it. “He was—.” Eugene cut off abruptly. He didn’t know what Jesse had told people about his disappearance and he didn’t want to be the one to spill the news of his memory loss.</p>
<p class="p2">But the thought of pulling anything on Jesse—on the sweet, docile boy who’d known nothing about who he was—was distasteful to Eugene. Even the idea felt dirty and wrong. Jesse hadn’t been himself, it wouldn’t have been right to take advantage. It wasn’t really right to have thought some of the things Eugene <em>had</em> thought about him at the time…</p>
<p class="p2">As if sensing his thoughts, Jesse looked over his shoulder and caught Eugene’s eye. He smirked and turned back away.</p>
<p class="p2">“No,” Eugene repeated. “Trust me, nothing happened there.” He stood. “I’m going to get another soda, either of you want anything while I’m up?”</p>
<p class="p2">“No, thank you,” Marcel said, still frowning at his boyfriend in disapproval. Eugene left them to the lecture he suspected Marcel would issue about private matters and appropriate questions.</p>
<p class="p2">“Dad,” Eugene heard Jesse say as he passed by the pair, “I’m fine.”</p>
<p class="p2">Robert said something back but Eugene didn’t linger to eavesdrop. He just wanted another root beer and then maybe he’d go track down Luna and see if he could embarrass her in front of her new friend. But a pale, slender hand plucked the last root beer out of the ice bin before Eugene could snatch it.</p>
<p class="p2">“If you wanted to talk to me, you could have just come and said hello,” Jesse drawled, opening the can of soda and taking a sip.</p>
<p class="p2">“Your face right now,” Eugene said, almost laughing. “Not a fan of root beer?”</p>
<p class="p2">“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p>
<p class="p2">But Eugene was sure he did. Was sure that Jesse only had an interest in the drink because Eugene had been reaching for it.</p>
<p class="p2">“Don’t bullshit me, Coste, I’ve got eyes and your face hides nothing.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes, you have had eyes for my face all night, haven’t you?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tell me, were you born with selective hearing or is it something you work at?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Is that really all you wanted to ask? I thought you might have had something more impressive to say, given the way you’ve been burning looks into the back of my head for hours.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Hey, dude, you’re the one who came over here to talk to <em>me,</em> not the other way around. And I’d ask if this is really all you wanted to talk about, but I know it is. You just want to hear that I was dying for your company.” Eugene rolled his eyes, mouth quirked sardonically at the idea of craving <em>this </em>boy’s company.</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse’s expression fell into a scowl that wasn’t helped by taking another sip of the drink he obviously didn’t like.</p>
<p class="p2">“I see you’ve kept company with some of my teammates.” So Eugene wasn’t the only one who’d been paying attention. “I hope you kept your mouth shut about your winter break. It’s not your right to—,”</p>
<p class="p2">“Woah,” Eugene interrupted Jesse’s tirade. “No need to work yourself into a tizzy over a crime you only assume I’ve committed. I didn’t, by the way. We just talked.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Marcel’s taken.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I noticed.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You’ve been laughing with him so much, I wasn’t sure if you’d even noticed the boyfriend attached to him.”</p>
<p class="p2">“News flash, I laugh a lot when I’m having a good time with friends. Not that you’d know.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You only <em>wish </em>you could claim me as a friend.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Good to know. But, hey, as long as you’re here,” Eugene reached into his pocket and drew out a small rectangle of delicate tissue paper that had crinkled some in his jeans over the course of the night.</p>
<p class="p2">“I didn’t get you anything,” Jesse said harshly, eyeing the gold paper like he thought its contents were sure to offend him already.</p>
<p class="p2">“Who says it’s for you?” Eugene asked, then laughed at Jesse’s sucked in breath and pinked face. “I didn’t expect you to get me anything,” he said, holding out the gift.</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse frowned at it. Eugene might have thought that Jesse would be the sort to like receiving trinkets from people, especially when he’d gotten them nothing in return. It proved he was just <em>that </em>important, didn’t it? But he should have guessed that Jesse had to be a difficult brat about everything, including gifts.</p>
<p class="p2">Cautiously, Jesse took what he was offered, still seeming to expect Eugene to close his fist around it and say again that it wasn’t for him. But Eugene waited until the package was in Jesse’s hands before dropping his. With some crinkling, Jesse opened the gift right there in front of Eugene.</p>
<p class="p2">For a moment, he just stared at the little nest of gold and the necklace nestled in the middle of it all.</p>
<p class="p2">“Is there a picture in here?” Jesse asked, holding up the golden chain to smirk at the heart pendant dangling off it. Eugene got the implication.</p>
<p class="p2">“Nah,” he said with an easy, dismissive shrug. “Thanks for thinking of me but I don’t think I’m the kind of guy that belongs in a locket. You, though, would make a pretty one.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You think so?” Jesse asked, looking up from the locket with some interest. “That I’m pretty?”</p>
<p class="p2">“I’ve already said as much, haven’t I?” Eugene asked, feeling only slightly abashed as he recalled the afternoon he and Jesse had spent alone at the cabin. “No point in denying it now, right?”</p>
<p class="p2">“You called him pretty, not me.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Him? Oh, you mean—but that’s still you. Still your face.”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse pursed his lips and Eugene was sure that something about that response had been unsatisfactory. Probably, Jesse didn’t like to associate himself with that other version of him that was too weak and soft and unimpressive for Jesse Coste to want anything to do with.</p>
<p class="p2">“Well,” Jesse said, shoving the chain in his pocket carelessly—something like paper crinkled in it as he did, “thank you for the gift, though it wasn’t necessary. And I’ll probably leave it behind anyway if I lose my mind again.”</p>
<p class="p2">“So,” Eugene ventured curiously, “was it a fugue state, then?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes,” Jesse’s attention snapped to him, eyes full of surprise. “How did you know?”</p>
<p class="p2">“I looked up your symptoms, obviously. I thought a fugue state fit the bill.”</p>
<p class="p2">“That’s what the doctors tell me. They’ve no clue why it happened. Dad thinks stress triggered it, as if I’d break under the pressure of being the best like some weakling,” Jesse scoffed. “But apparently there <em>are</em> people who get dissociative amnesia without a real reason. And sometimes they purposefully leave behind all identification, and just…disappear and build a new life for themselves.”</p>
<p class="p2">“But a lot of people only disappear for a week or two, like you.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Like I did <em>this </em>time. It’s hard to tell, isn’t it, when missing persons just wandered off mindlessly? Maybe I’ll be one of them next time.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Who says there has to be a next time?”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse shrugged stiffly, and Eugene saw the tension drawn in lines across his face. It had only been days since he’d experienced the biggest scare of his life. He was right to still be scared by it. And, Eugene thought of Robert’s hand hovering on Jesse’s shoulder all night, so was his dad.</p>
<p class="p2">“But,” Jesse said with some effort, “that man from that one movie—Jason Bourne, is it?—remembered his secret service training, maybe I’d remember my fencing and become an Olympian anyway.”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene didn’t point out that the <em>Bourne </em>movies were fictional or mention that it still wasn’t a great trade even if he did retain his fencing. Skill with the blade wasn’t the only thing that made this boy <em>Jesse.</em></p>
<p class="p2">“Anyway,” Jesse said, pressing the can of root beer into Eugene’s hand, “get rid of that for me, will you? I can’t let you monopolize me all night.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tragic,” Eugene said solemnly. Jesse didn’t leave. He wanted Eugene to try and monopolize him, just to prove that he was all that. “You can get on with your hosting duties, I’ll live.”</p>
<p class="p2">Jesse huffed and turned, hair flipping dramatically as he did.</p>
<p class="p2">“And merry Christmas,” Eugene called to his back, raising his can in a toast.</p>
<p class="p2">In the end, he’d gotten the root beer he’d wanted. It could almost be counted as a Christmas gift.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been saying for ages that I owe Marcel a happily ever after of his own because I so frequently use him as a plot point in others' relationship drama. So i gave him a grumpy boyfriend as an apology, because who doesn't love a good grumpy boyfriend, right? <strike>yes, i did tweet pacat asking about the twins' names just so i knew the name of the one i shipped marcel with. yes, i deserve judgment</strike></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">The rest of Eugene’s winter break was peaceful and entirely free of blonds. But when he returned to school, Jesse Coste’s temporary disappearance was the buzz in every dormitory and every hallway Eugene passed through.</p><p class="p1">“His picture was on TV,” Aiden was saying as they geared up for a supplemental practice Coach had called, despite the season being over. “And after all that, no story about where he went. It smells like a runaway case to me.”</p><p class="p1">“Why would he run away?” Nick asked. “He’s got the perfect life.”</p><p class="p1">“For the attention, of course.”</p><p class="p1">“That doesn’t sound like—,” Seiji, who was, for once, participating in team gossip, cut off when they filed out of the locker rooms and into the gym.</p><p class="p1">“Jesse,” Eugene said.</p><p class="p1">The boy the name belonged to couldn’t have heard him say it, but he looked over to Eugene as if he had. Standing next to Williams and Lewis at the front of the gym, Jesse stood as straight-backed and perfect as he had at the beginning of the year when he’d first been invited here.</p><p class="p1">Eugene remembered him vaguely from that time. Remembered the switch between smirking son-of-a-bitch and polite young man as he danced between interacting with the adults and the people he considered beneath himself—like Seiji. Eugene had not been impressed with Jesse then. He didn’t want to be impressed by him now either, but his cornflower eyes and buttercup hair were as sweet to look at under the harsh overhead lights of the gym as they had been in the softly filtered light of Lolo and Lola’s cabin.</p><p class="p1"><em>Just wait until he opens his mouth</em>, Eugene told himself. That would make his interest wane considerably.</p><p class="p1">“Boys,” Coach Williams said, calling them to attention, “I’m sure you all remember Jesse. He’s agreed to come back to help us.”</p><p class="p1">Everyone nodded as Williams went into telling them the sequence Jesse would be demonstrating with Seiji. When Seiji stepped up to the strip, Eugene saw him say something to Jesse before putting on his mask. Eugene couldn’t hear what, but he expected to hear Jesse’s ringing response, something smug and superior, perhaps something to demonstrate his wit. But as Jesse’s mouth opened to deliver a promising line, his eyes flitted over to Eugene. He put on his mask without a word.</p><p class="p1">The sequence was expertly executed on both ends, and when both boys had taken a turn playing dummy, Coach called for them all to pair off. It was only the team today, and Aiden turned to claim Harvard with lightning speed. Not as fast, however, as Seiji strode to Nick’s side. He didn’t want to be odd man out, and Eugene had a feeling he knew why. Today, there was technically an even number of fencers.</p><p class="p1">“Do you…” a voice behind Eugene started tentatively.</p><p class="p1">Eugene turned from watching his teammates to find Jesse. It wasn’t such a surprise—who else was there to fence? But the unsure and abandoned question <em>was </em>a surprise. It didn’t sound at all like Jesse. Not like <em>this </em>Jesse, anyway.</p><p class="p1">“Partners?” Eugene asked when Jesse didn’t complete his sentence.</p><p class="p1">He nodded, not moving or speaking, not even looking at Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“Well, come on, then,” Eugene said slowly, gesturing Jesse over to an empty strip.</p><p class="p1">He donned his mask and waited for Jesse to do the same. Eugene had never fenced Jesse like this—in an instructional manner—and he wasn’t really sure what to expect from it. Fencing Seiji had gotten him plenty used to harsh criticism, and Eugene was no stranger to going against stronger opponents, even without accounting for Seiji. But Jesse wasn’t any of Eugene’s teammates, wasn’t a friend or even someone that had anything to gain by helping him.</p><p class="p1">Eugene expected a show from Jesse, a display of his undeniable skill. He expected the smug, tipped smile he knew Jesse adopted when he dominated a conversation or a match. He expected to be taking one for the team by being Jesse’s partner. If he expected any help from the guy at all, it was help given only when Williams or Lewis stopped by to watch them fence.</p><p class="p1">Eugene didn’t get anything he’d expected.</p><p class="p1">Jesse didn’t smirk or gloat when he easily took Eugene’s blade, or when Eugene’s attack missed its mark.</p><p class="p1">“Like this,” Jesse said quietly when they reset positions, taking the tip of Eugene’s blade and guiding it through the sequence in the way a coach might guide a child’s.</p><p class="p1">Eugene couldn’t help the bemused smile as Jesse finished, driving Eugene’s blade neatly into his shoulder. When Jesse noticed the smile, he averted his eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—,”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Eugene said. “It’s cool. I mean, thanks for helping me. I appreciate it.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse nodded, looking up again with an expression that Eugene was tempted to call <em>shy. </em>If Jesse Coste watching him with a shy smile made any sense in this—or any—context.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want to try again?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh,” Eugene said warily, resetting position again.</p><p class="p1">They went through the sequence until he got it right and Jesse was nothing but pleasant and helpful the entire time. It was weird. But Eugene couldn’t complain. He’d gotten more out of this practice than he’d bargained for.</p><p class="p1">When Williams called an end to the morning for lunch, the others gave Jesse an obligatory <em>thanks</em> and then trooped into the locker rooms. Jesse waited until it was appropriate for him to leave, going to collect his bag from its place at the wall.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t you want to shower?” Eugene asked him. Jesse looked up abruptly from putting his mask away.</p><p class="p1">“Oh. Uh, no, I’ll just do that when I get back to school. Coach Williams lets me change in the staff bathroom.”</p><p class="p1">“Did you drive here?”</p><p class="p1">“I did,” Jesse confirmed, brow crinkling in confusion. “I’m safe to—,”</p><p class="p1">“No, that’s not what I meant. Just, it’s not a short drive to make covered in sweat. If you’ve got a problem with using the locker rooms here—,” <em>what am I doing?</em> “If you’d like, you can use the shower in my room. I owe you one for helping me today.”</p><p class="p1">“Really?” Jesse asked, eyes widening.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">“Alright,” Jesse agreed, zipping his sports bag and lifting it over a shoulder, eyes cast downward and lips tilted upwards. “If you don’t mind…thank you.”</p><p class="p1">“Sure thing,” Eugene said, “just give me a second to grab my stuff from my locker and we can go.”</p><p class="p1">The locker room was full of steam and the echoing sounds of water beating against tile. No one was out yet. Just as well. He didn’t need the questions any one of his teammates would have asked if they’d run into him just now.</p><p class="p1">As they walked across the grounds, Jesse stuck close to Eugene. It would have been unnerving if Eugene hadn’t spent a week with Jesse literally hanging off his arm. But it was still strange, like the phantom of normalcy. Because this wasn’t normal, not really. Not since Jesse had regained his memory.</p><p class="p1">“You were right,” Jesse piped up suddenly. Eugene looked over to him, but he was looking at the ground, watching their feet as they kicked through powdery snow that dusted the path back to Castello. “I <em>am</em> sixteen, like you thought.”</p><p class="p1">“I guess I’d be asking how you’d driven here if you weren’t.”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” Jesse mumbled, looking like he regretted speaking now. “Duh.”</p><p class="p1">“But you could have been older, too,” Eugene said, backtracking from his dismissal of Jesse’s confirmation. “Nick and Seiji are old for their class, I should know better than to assume age based on grade and driving status. So, sixteen, huh? Now I know.”</p><p class="p1">It was strange how few solid, genuine facts Eugene knew about the boy walking next to him. After a week spent within easy reach of Jesse, Eugene still had the lingering sense of familiarity. But he hadn’t even known how old Jesse was.</p><p class="p1">“How’s your family?” Jesse asked, eyes picking up from the ground to look at Eugene with hesitant but growing confidence that didn’t make any sense coming from the number one nationally ranked fencer in the United States.</p><p class="p1">“They’re good.”</p><p class="p1">“Did Marcus get the hoverboard he wanted?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene knew he was staring rudely because Jesse’s ears tinged pink and his shoulders inched up in either a shrug or a means to hide. But he couldn’t help it. Never would he have expected Jesse to remember something like that, much less care to ask. Eugene hadn’t even realized Marcus had mentioned that over break around Jesse.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene said, “he did. Luna almost threw it out into the snow when he ran over her toes with it. The house isn’t really open enough for him to play on it, but you know Marcus. Couldn’t wait for the snow to melt before testing it out.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse nodded.</p><p class="p1">“He’s lucky Luna didn’t bury it in the snow. And how is she? Kenzie seemed rather fond of her, are they still talking?”</p><p class="p1">“Kenzie? The girl from the party?” Eugene asked, whooping a laugh when Jesse nodded again. “Luna wouldn’t tell me her name. Yeah, I think they’re still talking. Hard to tell with Lunes, but I know she got <em>Kenzie's</em> number.”</p><p class="p1">“Just don’t tell Luna where you got that name. She’s scary.”</p><p class="p1">“Scary? You, Jesse Coste, are scared of a fourteen-year-old girl?”</p><p class="p1">“Aren’t you?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene thought about it.</p><p class="p1">“Only the healthy amount,” he concluded with another laugh, thumping Jesse on the back before he could think better of it. He dropped the offending hand quickly, expecting Jesse to snap at him for the touch.</p><p class="p1">Jesse just smiled slightly and returned his gaze to the ground as they came up on the building, staying contentedly quiet as they walked into it together. Eugene let Jesse into his room and directed him to the bathroom.</p><p class="p1">“There’s an extra towel hanging closest to the sink. And the shampoo you can use is—,”</p><p class="p1">“I remember,” Jesse told him, then flushed.</p><p class="p1">“Right,” Eugene nodded. Jesse knew which things were his—and therefore available for Jesse to use—because they’d already shared a bathroom. Almost, Eugene went to pick out something from his things for Jesse to wear. But today, of course, Jesse had his own clothes.</p><p class="p1">Once the echoes of pattering water sounded here too, Eugene stripped out of his fencing gear and pulled on last night’s sleep shirt over his boxers, not wanting to put on clean clothes but figuring he’d better not give Jesse too much of a shock when he finished in the shower.</p><p class="p1">But it was Eugene who was in for a shock when Jesse stepped lightly from the bathroom, towel still in a hand as he absently scrunched the last dregs of water from his hair. For a moment, that was all Eugene noticed—the way Jesse dried his hair. Different from the way he used to ruffle the towel over his hair and let it dry carelessly. This looked like a routine, like something that would usually be supplemented by special hair care products.</p><p class="p1">But Eugene’s attention soon slipped from hair to chest, which Jesse wore bare but for a familiar golden locket.</p><p class="p1">“I grabbed the wrong shirt,” Jesse explained, noticing Eugene looking as he knelt to grab a turquoise shirt from his sports bag just outside the bathroom door.</p><p class="p1">He leaned back into the bathroom to hang up his towel before tugging the shirt on. Eugene could still make out the chain of the necklace, and the outline of the pendant under his shirt—and the outline of…other things, too.</p><p class="p1">“Do you need help finding your way out of here?” Eugene asked, looking away from the recently covered chest and into Jesse’s eyes.</p><p class="p1">“I—don’t think so.”</p><p class="p1">“Cool. See you around, then.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse picked up his bag, packed now with all his gear.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” Jesse paused to say as he passed by Eugene. “For—um. Taking care of me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“Is it just me,” Nick mused as he and Eugene wandered through Kingstone together, “or was Jesse weirdly…nice last week when he came to practice?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Wise of you not to mention anything about Jesse being nice while Seiji was around,” Eugene commented, tugging on the blue scarf he knew Nick must have borrowed—probably without permission—from his roommate.</p>
<p class="p1">“He didn’t say anything at all to Seiji—which, like, I <em>would</em> say is rude of him but I think it’s for the best. Given their history and all.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What <em>is</em> their history?” Eugene asked, curious at the implication that Nick actually knew it. But he was divulging no secrets.</p>
<p class="p1">“What’s <em>your</em> history?” Nick countered at once. And here it was. “I saw him coming out of Castello, you know. After he helped you all through practice.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Jealous?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Of who? Gross, I don’t even want to think about it. I’m just saying, it’s weird that he…”</p>
<p class="p1">“Didn’t act like a complete and total brat the second Williams and Lewis weren’t paying attention?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene agreed, “it is weird.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Maybe he went on a life-changing journey over winter break and had a change of heart.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What? Like he got visited by those Christmas ghosts or something?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Or he got kidnapped by someone who taught him some manners,” Nick chortled.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah, maybe.”</p>
<p class="p1">Except that Jesse <em>hadn’t</em> changed. Eugene remembered how he’d been that last day at the cabin, and then at the party too. Completely and exactly the Jesse Coste that Eugene knew of from fencing. But he <em>had</em> been wearing Eugene’s present…</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t look now, but there’s a cute guy checking you out,” Nick said quietly.</p>
<p class="p1">“Where?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Your three o’clock.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene glanced over just enough to get a look at rosy cheeks and a slightly upturned, pink nose and bright blue eyes, blond hair fluffing out from under a pom-pommed hat. It couldn’t be—</p>
<p class="p1">“Ha ha, Nick,” Eugene said, ramming a shoulder into his friend. “Congrats on spotting a Coste look-alike but you know that’s not my type.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Eugene?” a voice called. A voice Eugene knew. Nick mouthed <em>I told you so</em> before Eugene looked away from him and back to the boy in the spice-colored hat with the tribble on top. “I thought it was you but I wasn’t sure until you—,” Jesse didn’t finish the thought, but his eyes trailed over to Nick, and Eugene thought he understood. The way he’d been with Nick just now, it was the way he acted with his brothers. Jesse would have recognized it but saying so would have given more away to Nick than he wanted.</p>
<p class="p1">“What’re you doing here?” Nick asked, voice hardening. Eugene could practically see Seiji reflected in Nick’s eyes as they narrowed at the boy who made him so obviously disquiet.</p>
<p class="p1">Surprisingly, Jesse gave no answer, just drew up against Eugene’s side the way he had all week long at the cabin when someone said something he didn’t know how to respond to. Like he expected Eugene to respond for him.</p>
<p class="p1">“Kingstone isn’t the property of Kings Row, Nick,” Eugene found himself saying. Nick’s narrowed eyes turned on him and Eugene knew he deserved them.</p>
<p class="p1">“It might as well be,” Nick said. But he seemed to sense what Eugene did; Jesse didn’t plan on going anywhere now that he’d found Eugene’s arm—literally, Eugene realized with a start. Jesse’s arms had wrapped familiarly around one of his and he hadn’t even noticed. “Whatever, I needed to do something anyway, I’ll catch up with you later, Eugene.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I can come with,” Eugene said, but since <em>I</em> really meant <em>we,</em> Nick shook his head.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m just gonna grab a scarf. For Seiji.”</p>
<p class="p1">“As opposed to giving him back the one you stole and getting a new one for yourself?” Eugene asked, eyebrow raised.</p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” Nick said firmly. “As opposed to that. He wants a red one.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But Seiji doesn’t like red,” Jesse piped up, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice. “His favorite color is blue.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, he wants a red one,” Nick repeated, glaring at Jesse. “I know he does.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Right,” Jesse mumbled, face going as red as Seiji’s future scarf when Eugene looked over to him with the same raised eyebrow he’d had for Nick. “Of course. Sorry.”</p>
<p class="p1">Nick left without another word, and it was just Eugene and Jesse, standing in the snowy streets of Kingstone.</p>
<p class="p1">“You are a bit of a ways from Exton,” Eugene remarked curiously and felt the <em>sshfff </em>of Jesse’s winter coat against his as he shrugged in response.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not that far.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Right. How’s that, by the way? Being back at school, I mean.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Dad almost kept me home.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What? Really?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Mhmm.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What about you?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I almost let him.” Jesse sighed, looking up at the sky, heavy with snow that hadn’t fallen yet. Soon, though. “But I didn’t want to give up my life just because I was scared to forget it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“A little counterproductive,” Eugene agreed.</p>
<p class="p1">“Besides, I have my name now if it happens again.”</p>
<p class="p1">Gloved fingers raised to chest, resting just where the pendant to a necklace might lay under layers of clothes. It had taken some negotiating to get the jewelry shop to engrave ten letters in the little heart locket on two day’s notice. Eugene had gone to the trouble for the memory of a boy who’d wanted a locket with his name locked inside. He hadn’t expected <em>this </em>boy to clutch a hand over the golden heart, face pink from ear to ear.</p>
<p class="p1">“I thought you said…” Eugene started to remind Jesse of his point back at the party about leaving behind personal trinkets like this one, but irritation flitted behind Jesse’s eyes.</p>
<p class="p1">“I never take it off,” Jesse said, face smoothed over again and hand returning to Eugene’s arm. “Since the night you gave it to me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh.” Eugene hadn’t really expected Jesse to put the locket to real use. He couldn’t have anticipated anything about this, about Jesse’s smoothed face and soft voice and clinging arms. “I’m glad you like it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I do.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Did you want to go somewhere or…?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t know this place that well,” Jesse admitted.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not very helpful, are you?” Eugene asked, shaking his head.</p>
<p class="p1">A sharp intake of breath quickly turned into tumbling words, “I—I’d like to go somewhere to warm up. It’s cold and I don’t like to be…” tumbling words came to a halt as Jesse reached the edge of his misadventures again.</p>
<p class="p1"><em>Ah, </em>Eugene thought. That made sense. Why Jesse had clung to him today, why he’d brought up the necklace. He was cold, out in the beginnings of a snow flurry, and unfamiliar with the streets he wandered. It was too much, Eugene reckoned. He’d pushed himself too far and found himself teetering on the verge of bad memories. And Eugene, of course, had been a comfort then. So Jesse was reverting to leaning on him now.</p>
<p class="p1">Though <em>why </em>he’d thought coming to Kingstone alone was a good idea, Eugene didn’t know.</p>
<p class="p1">“There’s a bookstore around here,” Eugene said. “Next to a chocolate shop that sells the best cocoa during the winter. We can go there.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse nodded and let Eugene guide him to the shop. The woman behind the counter—Bertha, the owner—gave Eugene a knowing smile as he ordered them hot chocolate.</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s not what it looks like,” Eugene told her before she could give him a knowing look that he didn’t actually deserve this time. “This isn’t a date.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No?” Bertha asked, looking to Eugene’s arm, which Jesse still hung off of.</p>
<p class="p1">“Nope.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Well, that’s good. I was going to say, it’s a little soon to be bringing a new boy here, don’t you think?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What does she mean?” Jesse asked in Eugene’s ear. It was a hiss, not a whisper.</p>
<p class="p1">“Don’t worry about it.”</p>
<p class="p1">“What do you mean,” Jesse asked, pulling out of Eugene’s ear to address Bertha without a trace of the shyness he’d displayed earlier, <em>“a little soon? </em>When was the last time he came in here with a boy?”</p>
<p class="p1">Bertha laughed, flourishing a twist of whipped cream on one steaming mug and then the other.</p>
<p class="p1">“This one’s got spunk, Eugene,” she said. “I like him.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I haven’t got spunk,” Jesse mumbled, settling down again.</p>
<p class="p1">“He came in just before Kings Row went on holiday, young man,” Bertha said, pressing a mug into Jesse’s hand.</p>
<p class="p1">“That was a whole month ago,” Eugene waved her off. “And it’s not a date. Jesse, do you want anything else?”</p>
<p class="p1">“What?” Jesse looked up from his mug with those too-large blue eyes of his that made him look far too innocent when his mouth wasn’t turned in a smirk.</p>
<p class="p1">“This is the best chocolate shop for miles, do you want anything?”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m alright, thank—are those chocolate strawberries?”</p>
<p class="p1">Bertha smiled at him—she really <em>had </em>taken a liking to him—and pulled down the strawberries Jesse’s eyes had only just landed on.</p>
<p class="p1">“On the house today,” she said, passing them over.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re the best,” Eugene told her with a grin.</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you,” Jesse said hesitantly, eyes flicking to Eugene before landing on Bertha and offering her a shy smile. What was it with him and shy smiles lately?</p>
<p class="p1">They receded to a little table in the corner of the shop, so small that Jesse almost didn’t have to let go of Eugene at all. Almost. Jesse let Eugene slip from his grasp, redirecting the hand to cup his mug, fingers overlapping around the porcelain. Eugene placed the chocolate strawberries down between them, noticing the way Jesse tried to appear disinterested in them.</p>
<p class="p1">“Have at them,” Eugene said.</p>
<p class="p1">“But she gave them to you,” Jesse protested. “Do you often get things on the house?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Only sometimes,” Eugene laughed. “Comes with making friends, I guess. But those berries weren’t for me. Do <em>you </em>often get free stuff?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse paused, pursing his lips as he considered. Slowly, he shook his head. Eugene snorted. He somehow doubted that Jesse wasn’t used to being handed little tokens of admiration left and right.</p>
<p class="p1">“Not like this,” Jesse said as he finally reached for a chocolate-covered strawberry, drizzled delicately with a garnish of white chocolate.</p>
<p class="p1">“So is it the strawberry or the chocolate that’s got you looking like that?” Eugene asked, propping his chin on a hand as he watched Jesse take another bite.</p>
<p class="p1">“Like what?” Jesse asked.</p>
<p class="p1">“Like you’ve got a little piece of heaven in your mouth.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t look like—I mean,” Jesse corrected carefully, “I like strawberries. They’re my favorite.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh yeah?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse nodded, picking up another.</p>
<p class="p1">“I like them best in Eton mess, but they’re good any…sorry, you don’t care,” Jesse trailed off, shoving the next treat into his mouth with none of the care he’d shown before.</p>
<p class="p1">“Eton mess, huh? Never heard of it. But it’s gotta be something sweet.”</p>
<p class="p1">“How do you know?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Because you’ve got a sweet tooth strong enough to show through amnesia.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You noticed?” Jesse was looking at Eugene like he was genuinely surprised by this.</p>
<p class="p1">“It was pretty obvious, Jesse.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear.</p>
<p class="p1">He was smiling.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene watched Jesse raise another strawberry to his sweetly upturned lips, but he didn’t press the fruit between them. Pausing, he looked across the table to Eugene. Then, slowly, he lowered the morsel from his mouth and offered it across the table.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene was surprised at the gesture, but, on instinct, he accepted the gift. He was sure he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as Jesse would have, but he wouldn’t turn it down when it was offered. Eugene could have picked a treat of his own from the box between them if he’d really wanted it, but taking this strawberry was more about letting Jesse give it to him than anything else. He wasn’t entirely sure Jesse hadn’t inadvertently kissed it before thinking to gift it to him.</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene popped the whole thing in his mouth. Jesse’s softly satisfied smile transformed into a little <em>o </em>and his face wrinkled a moment later.</p>
<p class="p1">“You ate the greens,” he said, close to scoldingly. “You’re not meant to eat it that way!”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene had to hold a hand up to his mouth to conceal his laughter and keep any strawberry chunks from escaping before he could swallow.</p>
<p class="p1">“Your face,” he said once he had.</p>
<p class="p1">“What about it?”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s hilarious. The stem won’t kill me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You did that on purpose,” Jesse accused, realizing that Eugene’s grin was equal parts amused and satisfied. “To get a rise out of me.”</p>
<p class="p1">“Maybe.” Eugene’s smile was slow to fade. Jesse’s wasn’t all that slow to reappear. It was a small thing, one that said <em>I’ll let you get away with it for now. </em>Eugene looked at Jesse now that the color had settled out of his face from the cold. “Hey, how’re you holding up at school, really?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse touched a hand immediately to an eye, like he knew the purple tint there had given him away.</p>
<p class="p1">“Okay,” he said. “I just have a hard time sleeping lately, especially at school.”</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sorry.”</p>
<p class="p1">“There’s nothing for it,” Jesse said with a quickly flashed smile that only made him look more tired. Eugene caught himself right before saying something stupid. Something about wishing he could help. Jesse had fallen asleep easily each night Eugene had spent with him…</p>
<p class="p1">“You’ll be okay,” Eugene said instead. “Sleep won’t steal anything from you.”</p>
<p class="p1">“But what if it does?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Then I’ll find you again.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You can’t promise that.”</p>
<p class="p1">“No, but I can promise that I won’t stop looking. And I won’t be alone.”</p>
<p class="p1">Jesse stared at Eugene, then looked down into his mug and its remains of hot chocolate.</p>
<p class="p1">“I have a pretty great life, you know,” he said haltingly, bashfully, even. “I get along with my dad and I like my school and I love fencing and I’m <em>good</em> at it. I—I mean, I know I’ve got the perfect life. That’s the thing. I <em>know</em> I do. I’m happy.” Right then, Jesse didn’t look it. He looked strung out and on the verge of tears, hands fidgeting around his mug. “But I broke. Nothing was wrong and I broke anyway and now Dad’s worried. He thinks I’m—he doesn’t believe that I’m happy but I <em>am</em> and I hate that he thinks it’s something he did when, really, I’m just—,”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re not broken,” Eugene cut in softly, reaching across the table to place a hand on Jesse’s forearm, stilling his fidgeting hands and drawing his eyes up from the cocoa. “Your dad’s just scared, Jesse. He doesn’t want you to hurt and he doesn’t want you to be scared and he doesn’t want you to go through what you did ever again. It’ll get better. And, you know, being happy with your life doesn’t mean it can’t stress you out sometimes too.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You think so? Everyone’s saying I ran away for attention, that I’m stupid for not being more grateful for what I’ve got.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene scowled—he’d seen those reports too. And read some of the comments under them. Nobody knew, of course, what had really happened. And Eugene wondered if that would even make a difference to any of them.</p>
<p class="p1">“I do think so,” he said firmly. “I’ve got a pretty great life too, you know. I love my family and my school and my friends and fencing. But sometimes, all the good things can get overshadowed by the bad things. It’s okay to get bummed out or stressed or unhappy, even with a great life.”</p>
<p class="p1">“It’s a lot sometimes,” Jesse confessed quietly. “All the work and the pressure and it’s not as if I don’t know what people say about me. I’m either adored or I’m hated and it—,” Jesse fidgeted again, a tic like a shrug and a grimace taking him before he squashed it down and continued, “it bugs me that people hate me so much. Enough to go find every mistake I’ve ever made and publish it in <em>the </em>most unflattering way possible.”</p>
<p class="p1">Eugene nodded slowly. He knew the article Jesse was talking about. Some piece about how he wasn’t the perfect prince everyone thought he was. Eugene had read it just before leaving break. More precisely, his date at the time had read the gossip to him and, idly, Eugene had agreed with the thing. Jesse <em>wasn’t </em>the perfect prince everyone thought he was and Eugene had thought it was about time for people to realize it. At the time, his opinion of Jesse had been based on Jesse's arrogant shape-shifting and insufferable condescension towards one of Eugene's friends. </p>
<p class="p1">“I’m sixteen, Eugene, I don’t know how everyone expects me to be perfect. I wish I was.”</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re human, Jesse. And that’s better.”</p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2">“Okay,” Nick said over dinner, “there’s definitely something weird going on with Jesse.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Why do you say that?” Seiji asked sharply.</p>
<p class="p2">“Because he came and stole Eugene away for a date today. <em>And, </em>might I add, Eugene let him.”</p>
<p class="p2">“What?” Seiji turned to Eugene severely. “Eugene, what is the meaning of this?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesus, Seiji, I’m not spilling team secrets. And he’s really not so bad…” Except, of course, for when he <em>was. </em>But today, he hadn’t been. He’d been…sweet—maybe a little unsettling in his niceness, but not bad.</p>
<p class="p2">“Why,” Seiji said carefully after a long pause, “does he like you so much? He didn’t complain at all when he had to fence someone with such a low skill level.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Thanks, Seiji, you’re a peach. And I don’t know. Maybe he finds my sense of humor charming.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesse’s sense of humor is nothing like yours at all. I don’t think he’d like it.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Then I don’t know, dude, you tell me.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I can’t think of a single plausible explanation.”</p>
<p class="p2">Eugene didn’t take it as an insult. Seiji looked troubled and Eugene knew there was something there, something between him and Jesse. Judging by Nick’s glower and the way he edged closer to Seiji, he knew what that something was to some extent. And anyway, Seiji was right. There really wasn’t any reason for Jesse Coste to be at all fond of him beyond the residual feelings of comfort he’d given a scared boy over winter break.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Eugene didn’t run into Jesse frequently, exactly, it was just that, by the third time since the party at the Coste estates that Eugene found the same bright eyes framed by long lashes blinking at him where he didn’t expect them, he couldn’t help but feel like something was up.</p><p class="p1">“What is <em>he </em>doing here?” Aiden asked. Not quietly; Aiden didn’t believe in subtlety. But Eugene could sympathize with the sentiment.</p><p class="p1">The loud question got the small group of boys across the lobby to spare Eugene and his crew some mind. Jesse—Eugene would recognize that hair and the proud set to those shoulders anywhere—tossed his head over his shoulder with an expression fit to his face that said he already knew anyone he saw was too far beneath him to be bothered with. The expression fell at once to surprise when he met Eugene’s eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” said the sullen Levantis twin. “Look What the cat dragged in.”</p><p class="p1">“Harvard, is it too late to change my mind about coming tonight?” Aiden asked, flipping his hair even more extravagantly than Jesse had as he turned to speak to their captain. “I don’t feel like putting up with twerpy little freshmen, I’ve got better things to do.”</p><p class="p1">“Twerpy little—,” Jesse started, hilariously affronted. “The only twerpy little freshmen here belong to <em>you.”</em></p><p class="p1">“There’s a limit to how many fourteen-year-olds I can be expected to tolerate at a time.”</p><p class="p1">“We’re not fourteen,” Nick grumbled but Aiden waved him off with a flippant hand.</p><p class="p1">“It’s so hard to know with you two, I can never keep it straight.”</p><p class="p1">“Aiden,” Harvard warned, “we’ll get our room soon, try not to start unnecessary fights before then.”</p><p class="p1">Aiden considered it and apparently Harvard’s hand on his arm was enough to tempt him away from a snark-off with the Exton boys in the lobby of this karaoke lounge.</p><p class="p1">“Let's just hope they’re better singers than fencers, or we’re in for a long night,” Jesse’s clear voice rang across the lobby as he turned back to his friends as well. Funny thing, though, Eugene thought he caught a wince from Jesse as soon as he’d finished saying it.</p><p class="p1">“Ma’am,” Aiden called jovially, pulling out of Harvard’s grip. Harvard groaned as Aiden trotted up to the front desk an employee had just returned to. “Hi, I’ve got a reservation tonight for five but we just ran into some friends,” a gesture to the Exton boys, “and I was wondering if it would be possible to combine our reservations into one room?”</p><p class="p1">With a bright, cheery smile like that, what could the woman do but agree? With a couple of taps at her iPad, she looked up.</p><p class="p1">“Coste and Lee?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes,” Aiden said with a sweet smile that turned devilish as she turned and gestured for them all to follow her back to their room.</p><p class="p1">“What are you doing?” Jesse hissed at Aiden, low enough that their host wouldn’t hear.</p><p class="p1">“Karaoke is so boring,” Aiden drawled, “unless you have someone to laugh at. And I have a feeling you’ll make a fool of yourself trying to sing. Not everyone can be as multitalented as I am.”</p><p class="p1">“I—you—!” Jesse bit his tongue, eyes slipping again to Eugene. Eugene shrugged at him. He’d learned long ago that it was better to just ride out the waves with Aiden.</p><p class="p1">Jesse glanced back at his team and then, furrow between his brows, followed after the woman, falling into step next to Eugene.</p><p class="p1">They were given a rundown of the controls and the rules, all nodding along until they were left alone, heavy door shutting them all in together in a room that was a little cramped with nine teenage boys in it.</p><p class="p1">“Who wants to go first?” Aiden asked cheerily.</p><p class="p1">“You’re kidding, right?” Grumpyface didn’t direct his question at Aiden, but at Jesse. “We’re not actually spending our Saturday evening with Clowns Row, are we?”</p><p class="p1">“It…could be fun?” Jesse offered defeatedly.</p><p class="p1">All three of his teammates found this an odd response, Eugene could tell. Grumpyface made a disgusted sound and threw himself onto the bench that wrapped around the room.</p><p class="p1">“How about <em>Eye of the Tiger?”</em> Harvard suggested. “It’s a classic.”</p><p class="p1">Aiden queued up the song and grabbed a mic, which he tossed to Eugene before scooping up another to try and force on Seiji. Nick took it. Seiji’s arms remained tightly crossed and his eyebrows were more prominently displeased with his surroundings than usual.</p><p class="p1">“You gonna sing?” Eugene asked Jesse, tilting his microphone toward him to indicate he’d share if Jesse wanted. But Jesse shook his head. Maybe he, like Aiden, believed he’d make a fool of himself if he sang.</p><p class="p1">After a rousing rendition of <em>Eye of the Tiger</em>, Harvard diplomatically offered the control panel the Exton boys. Marcel took it, along with the mic he was offered, and selected a song that Eugene knew. Marcel’s boyfriend narrowed eyes at him when he noticed Eugene wasn’t sitting this one out. Eugene shot him a wink and was not surprised at all when he stood, hand overlapping Marcel’s on his microphone, pulling it between them so he could use it too.</p><p class="p1">They took turns picking songs and Eugene only knew half of them—but that didn’t stop him from singing along. The lyrics were on the big screen at the front of the room for a reason. Jesse and Seiji notably both skipped their turns in the song rotation.</p><p class="p1">Eugene overheard Jesse muttering to one of the twins a couple rounds in, complaining, if Eugene had heard it right, about the water this place had for sell.</p><p class="p1">“I mean,” Jesse was saying, “how can they expect me to drink this? It’s hardly any better than tap. I ought to…” Jesse trailed off when he noticed Eugene’s attention on him, uncapping the water he’d just been criticizing and taking a sip. Eugene caught him making a face before he turned back to the song Nick had just put on.</p><p class="p1">Nick tried looping Seiji into the song, getting dangerously up in his face and pressing the microphone close to Seiji’s mouth. Seiji was having none of it and shoved Nick away, palm to cheek as he turned his own face away from the intrusive device with a glower that was a little pink around the edges. The song was more laughter than lyrics this time as everyone watched the battle between the freshmen. Seiji won, and Nick allowed himself to be pushed away without so much as a single note from Seiji to show for his efforts, but he was smiling as he turned his attention back to the screen.</p><p class="p1">“Aiden,” Nick said, three words into their new song, “what in the hell is this?”</p><p class="p1">“A classic,” Aiden informed him in a single breath between lines.</p><p class="p1">“You’re not seriously going to sing this one, are you?” Nick asked, eyeing Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, we are <em>definitely</em> singing this one,” Eugene told his teammate with a wicked grin, slinging an arm around him and belting out lyrics with Aiden.</p><p class="p1">Nick was laughing too hard to join in until the chorus hit again, but he <em>did</em> join. Marcel sang too—the only one from the Exton team to stick this one out. But the funniest thing, in Eugene’s opinion, was Harvard’s baritone singing about being too sexy, naughty, and bitchy.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck, I’ve gotta take a breather,” Eugene wheezed when the song was over. “My lungs <em>hurt</em> from trying to laugh and sing at the same time.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene slumped down into the bench and took a swig of water so deep, he all but emptied the bottle.</p><p class="p1">“You’re quite…exuberant,” Jesse said beside him. Had Eugene sat next to him? He must have because Jesse was there.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks!”</p><p class="p1">“That…” Jesse sucked his lips between his teeth, swallowing the rest of his sentence. Eugene voiced it instead.</p><p class="p1">“Wasn’t quite a compliment, I know. But being good isn’t the point of karaoke.”</p><p class="p1">“Being good is the point of everything,” Jesse snipped, arms crossing.</p><p class="p1">“You’d have more fun if you’d join in. Even your devil twin is having a good time.”</p><p class="p1">“My what?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene pointed to where Marcel sang with perfect pitch into his mic while Thomas-or-Aster air-guitared next to him.</p><p class="p1">“What, Aster? He’s really rather amiable, given the right circumstances. I haven’t got room for a diva on my team.”</p><p class="p1">“No, that spot’s already filled by you, right? And, for the record, I said <em>devil.”</em></p><p class="p1">“I am not a—!” Jesse scowled, looking pointedly away from Eugene.</p><p class="p1">Eugene’s bottle of water crinkled as he put it aside, ready to stand back up and join in the fun for the next song, but a hand landing gently on his bicep stopped him.</p><p class="p1">“Um,” Jesse mumbled, so quiet in the loud room that Eugene had to lean in to hear, “it sounds better when you’re not so loud.”</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“You sang in the car too. When you’re not being so <em>loud,</em> you’re not terrible to listen to.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” Eugene said, staring at Jesse and waiting for any sort of explanation on why he’d decided to share that thought. None came. “Well, thanks. But I told you, the point of karaoke isn’t to sound good. It’s to have fun and be terrible and act like a clown with your friends.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t understand why that’s fun.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s like the dumb party games we played over break—you had fun with those, right?”</p><p class="p1">“I guess,” Jesse admitted. Eugene was impressed. <em>He</em> knew Jesse had had fun, but Jesse had tried to claim that all of the movies they’d watched, games they’d played, and fun they’d had over break were null and void upon getting his memory back.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene smiled, “Well, this is the same deal. The fun is in the people and the laughing. Can I get you to try it?”</p><p class="p1">“Singing?” Jesse said the word like it was a terribly unexpected one in this context. “I only came because my team wanted to, I don’t—I’m not—,” Jesse spluttered.</p><p class="p1">“One song?” Eugene pressed.</p><p class="p1">Jesse floundered, searching for a way out. But when he met Eugene’s eyes, he sighed.</p><p class="p1">“Alright, one song. But,” Jesse’s fingers curled tightly into Eugene’s arm, “you have to sing louder than me.”</p><p class="p1">“That,” Eugene grinned, standing and pulling Jesse to his feet too, “I can do. Easily.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse took the song-selecting iPad from the sweet-faced twin, who must have been Thomas, and started scrolling through playlists. Aiden opened his mouth to say some smartass remark, but Eugene caught his eye. It wasn’t often that Aden listened to anyone, and most moments in which he <em>did</em> listen to someone belonged to Harvard. Tonight, he must have either been in a good mood, or maybe he, like Eugene, knew that Jesse would sit his ass back down and refuse to sing if needled at all. Aiden <em>had</em> said he wanted to hear Jesse make a fool of himself.</p><p class="p1">The longer Jesse looked through songs, the more agitated he became, likely conscious of the silence and impatience to get the party going again.</p><p class="p1">“What about Taylor Swift?” Marcel asked. “You like her.”</p><p class="p1">For some reason, this made Jesse’s cheeks color. Like he expected to be ridiculed. He would have been if Aiden wasn’t a fan too. Instead, Aiden whooped loudly in encouragement of the idea and Nick joined in the chanting too for good measure from the corner he’d sequestered himself in with Seiji. Seiji still wouldn’t be bullied into opening his mouth.</p><p class="p1">When Jesse finally settled on a song, his cheeks were pinker than ever. But he’d made a good choice. Everyone knew this one. Eugene didn’t even have to sing extra loud to cover for Jesse—he did anyway, because he’d said he would. But if he hadn’t, the clutter of voices would have hidden Jesse’s just fine. Just fine unless you were standing right by him and listening specifically to see if he was as terrible as his reluctance to sing indicated.</p><p class="p1">Jesse caught him watching and turned away quickly, letting his hair fall in his face and not bothering to fix it. Eugene didn’t have the best ear for music, but he liked the sound of Jesse’s voice.</p><p class="p1">Marcel picked the next song, sneaking a smile toward his captain as Madonna started blaring. It must have been some inside joke because Jesse gave Marcel a warning look before heading importantly to the door.</p><p class="p1">“Aw, come on, Jesse, don’t leave,” Marcel placated, already reaching for the iPad like he meant to skip <em>Material Girl</em>. Aster caught his hand with a <em>dude, leave it</em>.</p><p class="p1">“I’m only getting something more palatable to drink,” Jesse said dismissively, pushing out the door, which fell shut a little too heavily. His teammates just shrugged and continued on with their singing.</p><p class="p1">“Where are you going?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene just about jumped at the question at his back, quiet enough to blend under the loud singing of the others, but stern and flat as ever.</p><p class="p1">“Seiji! Jesus Christ, don’t make me put a bell on you. Sneaking up on me like that,” Eugene shook his head disapprovingly. “And I wasn’t going anywhere.”</p><p class="p1">Except, now that Seiji mentioned it, Eugene realized he had been inching toward the door without noticing. Without meaning to. But…</p><p class="p1">“Here, keep track of this for me,” Eugene told Seiji, forcing his microphone into Seiji’s hands. “I’ll be right back.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene slipped out of the room without anyone else noticing. Even before the soundproofing door fell shut on the room to muffle out the voices within, Eugene had no trouble at all detecting Jesse’s. He followed the sound of it out to the main lobby.</p><p class="p1">“Haven’t you got any spring water?” he was demanding of the woman manning the front desk, who shook her head and tried to say something. “What about sparkling water? That would be better than this hard water you’re trying to serve us. Do you know how bad that stuff is for you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry, but that’s the only water we have. Can I interest you in a soda instead?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse scanned the mini-fridge she gestured to behind her.</p><p class="p1">“I’ll take a ginger ale,” Jesse decided grumpily, rifling in his pocket to pull out his wallet.</p><p class="p1">“I like your necklace,” the woman said of the golden pendant that had fallen loose of Jesse’s shirt. Jesse’s hand flew to it protectively.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you,” he said, still slow to peel his hand from it to pay.</p><p class="p1">“Who’s inside?”</p><p class="p1">“That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?” Jesse snapped.</p><p class="p1">Eugene couldn’t help stepping up to the counter, drawing the attention of both people there already. Jesse’s eyes widened and his mouth was shaping a question, but Eugene silenced it with a guiding hand at the small of Jesse’s back in a manner similar to the way he’d ushered Jesse around the kitchen up in the cabin. Jesse went perfectly still.</p><p class="p1">“Did you get your drink?” Eugene asked him. “Everyone’s missing you, let’s get back to it.” Meaning, <em>please stop terrorizing the staff.</em></p><p class="p1">“Oh—okay,” Jesse agreed, all bite drained from his voice as Eugene started them down the hall.</p><p class="p1">“Your drink!” a voice called out behind them.</p><p class="p1">“Better not forget that,” Eugene laughed, leaving Jesse in the hallway to jog back and grab his stupid soda off the counter. “Sorry about him,” Eugene said, “he can be a bit much.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s no problem,” the woman replied. “Where’d you get that locket, can I ask? It’s very pretty.”</p><p class="p1">“Golden Moose Jewelers,” Eugene replied before realizing what she was asking. He eyed Jesse, who was loitering in the hall waiting for Eugene to return with his drink. The delicate chain of his necklace was just visible across the back of his neck. Eugene assumed the locket hanging from it was still empty, but he didn’t try correcting the assumption Amanda—Eugene could see her name tag now—had made.</p><p class="p1">Coming up on Jesse’s side, Eugene held out the ginger ale to him, which Jesse took sheepishly. He was subdued as they turned the corner to their room. Probably because he’d heard Eugene and Amanda talking. It wasn’t Eugene’s fault that Jesse was a bit much, but he felt a little bad anyway, faced with Jesse’s bit lip and downcast eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Are you going to sing with us some more?” he asked, stalling just outside the door. Eugene was missing <em>All Star</em> for this, he could hear the horribly off-key cacophony of it pounding through the walls.</p><p class="p1">“I only promised you one song.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but…it was fun, right? And you’re no worse than the rest of us. I don’t know why you’re so against it.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m not good at singing, so I don’t sing,” Jesse said simply.</p><p class="p1">“Well, I liked hearing you sing.”</p><p class="p1">“Really?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Eugene said encouragingly, “you were cute.”</p><p class="p1">They both realized what Eugene had said at the same time, but it was too late to snatch back the thought and keep it to himself. Predictably, Jesse’s cheekbones dusted with color, but his face soon fell from surprise into a resentful sort of pout.</p><p class="p1">“So I’m cute again?”</p><p class="p1">“What?” Eugene asked, confused by the question. Jesse ducked his head and when he looked up again, the red had spread across his whole face, but his expression had evened out.</p><p class="p1">“Nothing,” Jesse said, stepping to the door. “I think I might sing a few more rounds after all.”</p><p class="p1">And Jesse did, staying close to Eugene to share his microphone the whole time and singing so quietly, it almost seemed as though it was for his benefit alone that Jesse sang.</p><p class="p1">When Harvard announced they were out of time, everyone put away their microphones and gathered their things. The late January air felt extra chilly after the heat of the small room, especially combined with all the hopping around that had happened in there. Someone shuffled closer to Eugene in the cold and he didn’t even have to look over to know it was Jesse. But Jesse didn’t latch onto Eugene’s arm this time.</p><p class="p1">“That was fun,” Harvard said. “We should all do this again sometime.”</p><p class="p1">“We should,” Marcel agreed.</p><p class="p1">Eugene noticed that both mediators had skeptical boys at their shoulders who looked unimpressed with the suggestion.</p><p class="p1">“You’re wearing red,” Jesse said suddenly as Marcel and Harvard continued to talk and Aiden and Aster continued to have a glaring contest.</p><p class="p1">Seiji, the only one of them tonight in the color, touched a hand to his scarf almost protectively, like he thought Jesse might snatch it away.</p><p class="p1">“I’ve worn red before,” Seiji replied. It might have sounded casual—if anything Seiji said <em>ever</em> sounded casual.</p><p class="p1">“Yes, but—,” Jesse’s eyes trained on Nick, but he didn’t persist in his interrogation. Seiji was clearly more surprised by this than Jesse’s initial observation. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over Jesse, and then at the small gap between him and Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“I think, perhaps, you should be wearing yellow,” Seiji said at last.</p><p class="p1">“Yellow?” Jesse wrinkled his nose. “Why?”</p><p class="p1">“It’s Eugene’s favorite color.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene wasn’t surprised Seiji’s shrewd eye had noticed his fondness for yellow. He was slightly more surprised that Seiji—relationship-blind <em>Seiji Katayama</em>—thought there was something going on between him and Jesse. But what surprised Eugene the most was the implication therein. Jesse should be wearing Eugene’s favorite color for the same reason, presumably, that Seiji was wearing Nick’s.</p><p class="p1">“We should be getting back to school now,” Harvard interrupted the hubbub of conversation, looking down at his watch. “Thanks again for the fun evening, you guys.”</p><p class="p1">They all said some level of goodbye—all except Seiji, who was already walking at a brisk clip back toward campus. Nick hurried to catch up with him.</p><p class="p1">“See you around, I guess,” Eugene said to Jesse, but found himself trapped by a hand clutched around his wrist. Jesse looked slightly frantic, and his eyes darted between his team and Eugene. All of them waited expectantly to see what the holdup was about.</p><p class="p1">“I just—um.” Jesse’s eyes darted again to where all three of his teammates watched curiously, then looked back to Eugene determinedly. “I was wondering if it might make sense to—if you wanted to, you know…exchange numbers?”</p><p class="p1">“Why is he acting so shy?” Thomas asked. It had clearly been a question meant for his brother and Marcel, but Jesse’s hand ratcheted tightly around Eugene’s wrist and his face flushed even deeper at the too-loud question.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, ‘course,” Eugene said, though he couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. Why <em>was</em> Jesse acting so shy? He definitely hadn’t been coy at his party, marching over and demanding that Eugene admit that he’d wanted to talk to Jesse all night. But ever since then, Jesse’s brazen attitude had been notably missing. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it.”</p><p class="p1">A tiny smile, part relief and part satisfaction appeared on Jesse’s lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it gladly to Eugene.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what can i say, i got carried away with the karaoke XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>guess who might just be starting a stupid and arbitrary tradition of ending the year with the final chapter of a Eugesse fic lmao that's two years in a row now; think we can go for three?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">It had been two weeks since Eugene had seen Jesse. Not long considering that they had no real reason to cross paths anymore, but Eugene still found himself marking the time. Occasionally, he thought about texting. But the thought was always quickly dismissed. Jesse was—Eugene didn’t really understand him. He seemed different every time Eugene saw him and he wasn’t really sure what to make of it. Besides, Jesse had never texted. Eugene didn’t have the means to contact Jesse even if he’d wanted to; he’d only given Jesse his number, not thinking to collect Jesse’s in return.</p><p class="p1">“I’ve figured it out,” Nick said triumphantly over dinner. He flourished a fork dramatically at Eugene. “You kidnapped Jesse Coste over winter break and Stockholm Syndromed him.”</p><p class="p1">“It would explain his mysterious disappearance,” Aiden mused.</p><p class="p1">“Eugene?” Harvard asked.</p><p class="p1"><em>Shit. </em>Eugene must have been making a face. He hid it quickly, but not quickly enough.</p><p class="p1">“Holy <em>shit,” </em>Aiden yelled, “did you really? And you didn’t invite the rest of us? It could have been a fun team bonding experience, Eugene. Kidnapping a rival team’s captain. Classic. But you selfishly kept all the fun and bonding to yourself.”</p><p class="p1">“Shhh,” Eugene hissed. “I didn’t <em>kidnap </em>Jesse. I just—ran into him over winter break.”</p><p class="p1">“We’re gonna need more than that, Gene,” Nick pressed, eyes alight with real interest.</p><p class="p1">Eugene noticed that Seiji frowned beside him. Not at the mention of Jesse, not this time, but at Nick’s interest in the subject. Yeah, the guy was wearing red, alright.</p><p class="p1">“You’re not getting more than that, it’s not my place to talk about.”</p><p class="p1">“It was all over the news,” Harvard said. “People thought he’d…you know…”</p><p class="p1">“A week is a long time to go missing,” Aiden nodded. </p><p class="p1">Eugene groaned, unable to think of a way to avoid this talk altogether.</p><p class="p1">“He basically ended up out in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard and, lucky for everyone, my family was on our way farther out into the middle of nowhere. We had to take him with. ‘Cause of the snow.”</p><p class="p1">His teammates were primed to push for more details, but Eugene’s phone started buzzing. Expecting it to be Mom checking in that he was at school with the storm rolling in, he pulled it out. But the number scrolling across his screen wasn’t one he knew. Ignoring his friends, Eugene peered out the dark windows of the cafeteria at the snow falling heavily, visible only because of the dim lamps around Kings Row lighting the night. He wondered…</p><p class="p1">“Hey, this is Eugene,” he said into the phone, eyes remaining on the storm. The worst one they’d had since December.</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” the soft exhale of relief came in reply. Eugene shouldn’t have been so sure about who was on the other end of this call from that sound alone. But he was.</p><p class="p1">“You alright?“</p><p class="p1">“Perfectly,” Jesse said. But he didn’t quite sound it. “I’m at—I was at Kingstone today.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p1">“I was in the chocolate shop. With Bertha.”</p><p class="p1">“She’s got some cool stories, huh?” Eugene asked. He shrugged at his friends, indicating that he had to take this call. They all turned to other conversations reluctantly. They’d interrogate him later, no doubt.</p><p class="p1">“I lost track of time and it’s late now.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re still there? Bertha’s got to have closed the place down for the night by now.”</p><p class="p1">“Ah, yes. She just did. It’s warm in there, I didn’t realize how snowy it had gotten.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, it’s a good storm we’ve got going…” Eugene was still watching out the window. It had been a night like this that he’d first met Jesse in more than passing. He had a feeling he knew why Jesse had called him. “Kingstone’s really close to here,” he said, standing from the table and clearing his half-finished dinner with a distracted wave goodbye to the guys. “Closer than Exton.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">“Do you know how to get here?”</p><p class="p1">“Kind of?”</p><p class="p1">“Stay on the phone with me while you walk and I’ll come meet you halfway.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay.” A beat of silence. “Thank you.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, no problem. What were you doing so far from school?” Eugene asked, just to keep Jesse talking while he went to grab his jacket.</p><p class="p1">“I wanted hot chocolate,” he said at last, but the length of time it took for him to conjure up that answer made it sound less solid than it ought to have.</p><p class="p1">“Harvard’s talking about getting our teams together again,” Eugene moved on. “Since karaoke night was such a hit.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know that that’s a good idea…”</p><p class="p1">“Why not?”</p><p class="p1">“Because.”</p><p class="p1">“Because…?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t think our teams are really compatible.”</p><p class="p1">“Everyone mostly got along, don’t you think?”</p><p class="p1">“It was…a lot to balance. My team is very different from you—from your team.”</p><p class="p1">“Didn’t seem too different to me,” Eugene said, interested by Jesse’s phrasing. <em>A lot to balance.</em> Jesse <em>had</em> seemed to be playing a balancing act that night, hadn’t he?</p><p class="p1">“How’s your family?” Jesse asked, changing topics. Eugene let him and spent the next ten minutes filling Jesse in on all the goings-on of the Labao household, distracting them both from the bitter cold and pelting snow.</p><p class="p1">Luna had gone on a date. She’d called Eugene to ask him the best place to go—he’d played it cool, but it had been pretty exciting. Jesse laughed, not buying Eugene’s nonchalance for a moment when he told the story. And Fritz was liking school. His class was doing some project with quilts and he’d asked to cut a square out of Eugene’s first fencing jacket to use in it. Marcus and Junior were rowdy as ever, but staying out of trouble for the most part.</p><p class="p1">Jesse’s dad still called him every night. But he was sleeping a little better these days, he assured Eugene. Eugene wasn’t sure how much he believed that.</p><p class="p1">A hazy figure appeared through the white blaze, golden hair floating around him and laced in snowflakes. Eugene hung up his phone and pocketed it, quickening his pace to meet up with Jesse. He didn’t look in nearly as bad shape as the last time Eugene had picked him out of a snowstorm.</p><p class="p1">“Where is your hat?” Eugene asked, already tugging his own yellow one off his head and fixing it onto Jesse’s, pulling it snuggly down over red ears.</p><p class="p1">“I forgot it,” Jesse said, fingers brushing against the one he wore now. “Don’t you need this?”</p><p class="p1">“Nah, I haven’t been out here as long as you. You need it more.”</p><p class="p1">“But…” Jesse protested weakly. “Thank you.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse’s left hand found Eugene’s right one and he pressed their palms together. Eugene noticed gloves peeking out of Jesse’s coat pocket and he wondered when Jesse had snuck them off. His hand was too warm to have been without it long. Eugene hadn’t bothered with searching out his gloves before coming to search out Jesse, and Jesse’s warm hand felt good in his cold one. Jesse didn’t pull away from the icy touch. Eugene knew why. The feel of Jesse’s callouses against his own was familiar. A reminder that Eugene and Jesse were connected, that Eugene really knew Jesse. It was a reassurance that Jesse no longer had any need of, but he held as tightly to Eugene’s hand as he ever had. As if he needed it desperately.</p><p class="p1">“You should tell your dad if you’re not going back to school tonight,” Eugene said. “And isn’t Marcel your roommate? You should tell him too. People will worry.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse agreed easily but didn’t seem to have anything more to say. Now that they walked together with clasped hands, there wasn’t the same need to keep up a constant string of words to reassure Jesse that he wasn’t alone. So Eugene let Jesse indicate what he wanted, and when he didn’t speak, Eugene didn’t push it.</p><p class="p1">Jesse had been oddly quiet the last couple times Eugene had seen him. Almost like he’d been at the start of winter break. Quiet and cautious to speak. Shy.</p><p class="p1">It must have been a byproduct of the storm and the cold and the memories of a very recent trauma.</p><p class="p1">“Do you want to take a shower to warm up?” Eugene asked as he let them into his dorm room at last. The hallways had been as empty as he’d expect past curfew.</p><p class="p1">Jesse shook his head. “I’m okay.” He glanced over the empty beds in the room. “Where’s your…?”</p><p class="p1">“At some nerd convention,” Eugene shrugged. “Took today off and is spending the weekend over at a hotel near it.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene shed his coat and took Jesse’s when he did the same, tossing them both over his desk chair. Jesse pulled off his boots next, and then rubbed hands over his arms, looking around the room again distractedly. Nervously?</p><p class="p1">“You sure you don’t want that shower?” Eugene offered again, eyeing the hat Jesse hadn’t taken off. Jesse’s hand flew to it, but not to pull it off. He held it in place like he thought Eugene would take it. “You’re cold. Let me grab you some flannels.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” Jesse agreed, loitering awkwardly as Eugene dug him out something to wear.</p><p class="p1">“There’s toothpaste in the drawer closest to the shower you can use but I’m a bring your own toothbrush sort of guy so you’ll have to use your finger.”</p><p class="p1">“Bring your own…?” Jesse asked, confused. Then he looked sharply at Eugene. “How often do you have people over?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t,” Eugene laughed and Jesse’s shoulders relaxed. “This is a dorm and I <em>do </em>have a roommate, I can’t actually have people stay the night.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse frowned before spinning fast toward the bathroom. The door practically slammed behind him.</p><p class="p1">Eugene changed too, quickly. He managed to pull on sweatpants before a knock came at the door. He thought it was odd for Jesse to knock, but he must have learned by now that Eugene had a habit of changing while he was in the bathroom.</p><p class="p1">“I’m decent, come on in,” Eugene called, figuring Jesse could live with the three seconds it would take him to pull on his shirt. But he didn’t actually pull it on because it wasn’t the bathroom door that opened. “Oh, hey, Seiji,” Eugene said, thoroughly distracted by his teammate’s presence here. “What’s up?”</p><p class="p1">Seiji quietly stepped into Eugene’s room and softly shut the door behind him.</p><p class="p1">“About Jesse—whatever happened over break…is he okay?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene was surprised by the question. Whatever was between Jesse and Seiji, it was more complicated than Eugene had assumed. He could see it in Seiji’s face now.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. He’s all sorted out and good.”</p><p class="p1">Seiji nodded once and abruptly turned to leave.</p><p class="p1">“Who are you talking to?” Jesse asked, emerging from the bathroom, then freezing when he saw the answer for himself.</p><p class="p1">“What are you doing here?” Seiji asked, suddenly snarling, as if he hadn’t come here to check if Jesse was alright.</p><p class="p1">“What are <em>you </em>doing here?” Jesse countered. And here, finally, was the superior tone Eugene had expected from Jesse each time he’d seen him since the party.</p><p class="p1">“This is my school.”</p><p class="p1">“This isn’t your room. You can’t be here.” Then Jesse’s eyes slid from Seiji to Eugene. “And you. For the love of—put on a shirt!” he snapped at Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“You’re not allowed to be here,” Seiji said, arms crossing and eyebrows pulling down dangerously. “I should tell Coach Williams—,”</p><p class="p1">“Seiji,” Eugene cut in. “Don’t. Please? I promise it won’t happen again, just let it slide this once, yeah?”</p><p class="p1">“Why should I?” Seiji asked, eyes still locked on Jesse and burning with anger.</p><p class="p1">“Because you’re my friend and I need you to do me this solid.”</p><p class="p1">Seiji looked away from Jesse, startled, it seemed, as he turned to Eugene. After a moment, he nodded curtly.</p><p class="p1">“Fine. But let me warn you,” Seiji said, never breaking eye contact, “as your friend, <em>that,” </em>a sideways jerk of his head to the third person in the room, “isn’t really Jesse.”</p><p class="p1">And then Seiji was gone. Jesse stomped to the door and viciously twisted the lock.</p><p class="p1">“What was he doing here?” Jesse spat. “And why’d you let him in—you’re <em>still </em>not wearing a shirt!”</p><p class="p1">“He was here to ask if you were okay,” Eugene replied calmly as he pulled his shirt over his head at long last. Briefly, Jesse’s eyes blew wide in disbelief, and a flicker of something like chagrin passed over his face. “Yeah,” Eugene said. “I get the idea you don’t deserve that kind of concern from Seiji anymore, but he’s a good guy.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse flushed an angry color and the annoyance his features had adopted were a mirror to Eugene’s own irritation.</p><p class="p1">“Man, I don’t <em>get</em> you,” Eugene said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You—Woah!”</p><p class="p1">Eugene snatched the blur of yellow out of the air before realizing what it was. The hat he’d lent Jesse. Jesse looked properly pissed off now. Again, he was the boy standing tall and sure, the one that knew he was the best and brightest of any room he deigned with his presence. Eugene’s irritation should have grown at seeing Jesse’s sneering expression and imperious posture but, instead, it was like a gear had fallen properly into place, and something like relief at <em>finally</em> getting the other shoe to drop tamped down his annoyance for a moment.</p><p class="p1">“If Seiji’s such a good guy, why don’t you take <em>him</em> to Bertha’s like all your other boys?” Jesse demanded, intent on raising Eugene’s annoyance with him again. “But I should warn you, <em>he’s</em> not sweet either. <em>Or</em> cute. And at least <em>I’m</em> the best and it’s not my fault that you’re too fucking stupid to see that—!” Jesse gasped almost before he’d finished speaking that last word, his hands clapping firmly over his mouth and his entire body wincing and then wilting. “I didn’t mean that,” he said in soft horror, the jumbled sentence barely audible through his clamped hands.</p><p class="p1"><em>Oh,</em> Eugene thought, looking at Jesse now, who’d managed to shrink himself down from the centerpiece of any room to something softer and…sadder.</p><p class="p1">“I think you did,” Eugene said, taking a testing step toward Jesse. When he wasn’t yelled at for his approach, he committed to it. Jesse resisted Eugene’s prying fingers but he let them win in the end, allowing his hands to fall from his mouth, lips pale in the line he pressed them to between his teeth. “You’ve been acting so strange. Every time I see you—I never know what I’m going to get this time. But there you are, aren’t you?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene hadn’t meant to say it harshly—he didn’t think he had. But he must have because Jesse’s hands snapped out of Eugene’s and his lips escaped from their prison to suck in one shaky breath before it broke. <em>It</em>, in this situation, could have meant any number of things.</p><p class="p1"><em>It</em> could have meant the breath that broke in a ragged, exhaled sob.</p><p class="p1">Or <em>it</em> could have meant the pinched but even expression Jesse had managed to hold in place, which crumpled and broke.</p><p class="p1"><em>It</em> could also have meant the quiet of the room, left in the echoes of Jesse’s rage. Now, that silence broke as Jesse’s voice filled the room—just not with words.</p><p class="p1">But <em>it</em> was more than that—<em>it</em> was the whole damn facade. Eugene watched it all break and fall away now, saw Jesse finally let go of the last shreds of it as tears poured down his cheeks and his hand pressed hard against his chest, almost as if grabbing something. Something small and tucked away under a shirt, but something that was there—something Jesse clearly needed to assure himself was <em>still</em> there.</p><p class="p1"><em>Ohhhh shit,</em> Eugene thought—realized, <em>he’s adorable.</em></p><p class="p1">“Hey,” Eugene said, raising his hands like showing Jesse they were empty of weapons could show him Eugene’s intentions were free of hurt. “Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry. Jesse?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse shook his head and this time when Eugene tried to approach, Jesse retreated a step. Eugene froze.</p><p class="p1">“I’m s-sorry,” Jesse stuttered out, wiping angrily at his eyes with one hand, the other still pressed hard into his chest. “Seiji’s right, I’m not—<em>this.</em> But that other boy—the one I was for a week over winter break…that boy fell for you and even though I’m <em>not</em> that boy, it turns out—,” a hiccupy sob interrupted Jesse, “—it turns out that boy was still me and those feelings are mine too and I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I like you so much and I know you don’t—so I thought if I just—but it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I’m sorry the boy you actually liked is gone and I’m all that’s left.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene could feel something tighten in his heart—could feel it twist, too. He hated to see people cry and he especially hated to make them cry. And this was all his fault. Eugene knew it had been obvious to Jesse that his preference had been for the quiet, sweet boy with the mild manner and eager helpfulness. Knew Jesse had picked up on the disappointment Eugene hadn’t wanted to acknowledge when that boy had been replaced by <em>this</em> Jesse. The real Jesse. But…</p><p class="p1">“It’s all you, Jesse,” Eugene said, not loud, but sure. “I shouldn’t have talked like the boy I spent winter break with is different from the boy I’m with now.”</p><p class="p1">“You don’t even know the boy you’re with right now,” Jesse sniffed.</p><p class="p1">“I’d like to.” Eugene’s hand twitched at his side, trying to reach for Jesse but he stopped it. “Over winter break—you’ve got to know you weren’t alone in those feelings. I think about you all the time. I want—,”</p><p class="p1">“Shut up!” Jesse yelled, storming to his pile of snow-damp clothes and pulling something from the pocket of his slacks with a vicious flourish. He was in front of Eugene in another moment, shoving his spoils into Eugene’s chest. <em>“That’s</em> the boy you want!” Jesse snarled, pulling away. “Not me.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene looked down at the folded square of paper now in his hand. It was worn, the creases pronounced and loose as if folded and unfolded a hundred times or more. It fell open easily now, and Eugene saw a boy made of flowers underneath all the smudge marks from fading pencil lines. The picture Eugene had drawn of Jesse in the cabin.</p><p class="p1">“You kept it,” Eugene said, startled to be seeing the portrait again. Especially right now—the way Jesse had just pulled it out— “Have you been…carrying it around with you?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse didn’t answer, kneading the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to clear them of tears. It didn’t seem to be working.</p><p class="p1">“I needed the reminder,” Jesse mumbled eventually. “Of how you saw me.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s your face, Jesse,” Eugene said, looking from Jesse’s ruddy face to the smudgy one on the page. “It’s just you.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s not true and you know it. No matter what I did after remembering myself, you wouldn’t treat me the way I wanted, you just wanted <em>him </em>so I tried to—to give that to you. I didn’t know how else to make you like me again.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry you felt like you had to pretend with me.”</p><p class="p1">“I <em>did</em> have to! And stop looking at me like that,” Jesse added with a fierce glare through watery and red-rimmed eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Like what?”</p><p class="p1">“Like you want to comfort me—I don’t need it. I’m not <em>him.</em> I don’t need coddling and—and I don’t usually—,” Jesse scrubbed at his cheek again with an impatient and disgusted sound. “You keep looking at me like you did when I clung all over you during break and I’m <em>not</em> that.”</p><p class="p1">“I hate to break it to you,” Eugene said seriously, trying again to take a step toward Jesse. Just one step. He was allowed it. “But I think you <em>are</em> a bit clingy. Snooping on Bertha’s to see if I’ve been there with anyone since you? And you sat close to me when we watched <em>Mulan </em>too.”</p><p class="p1">“That—,”</p><p class="p1">“And you don’t have to be scared and alone with no idea who you are to need comfort, you know.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s not what you made it seem like before.”</p><p class="p1">“I was wrong before. I was missing someone I was too dense to realize was still right in front of me. If you want,” Eugene offered, covering the remaining distance between them and pushing Jesse’s hand off his cheeks to wipe more gently at the tears spilling down them than Jesse had bothered with, “I can tell you that bedtime story tonight? About how impressive Jesse Coste is.”</p><p class="p1">“Why are you being so—?” Jesse struggled to find a suitable word. He couldn’t find one in time.</p><p class="p1">“Because I want to be with you,” Eugene said. How much time had he spent thinking about Jesse since break? How often had he worried? Those feelings hadn’t stopped, not really, not even when Eugene had only been willing to see the worst in Jesse. That desire to be at his side hadn’t ever gone away. “I want to be with you, and I want to keep getting to know you. Jesse, I’d like to date—,”</p><p class="p1">Jesse shook his head vigorously, pushing Eugene off him again.</p><p class="p1">“You won’t like me. You didn’t like me the first time you got to know me—the real me. You don’t like me, you like him. You’re only being nice now because you think you see him in me—and you only think that because I worked hard to make you. The only times you’ve actually <em>seen</em> me, you didn’t like me at all.”</p><p class="p1">When Eugene didn’t speak right away, Jesse’s face scrunched against a new deluge of tears.</p><p class="p1">“See?” he accused. “It’s the truth, you can’t even deny that you didn’t like me.”</p><p class="p1">“I can’t,” Eugene agreed, but pushed ahead before Jesse could say anything to that. “But I was just trying to think of a way to say it. How I feel about you. It’s like…you know when you listen to a song and you don’t get it at first? Like, it doesn’t click with you and you don’t think you like it but you can’t get it out of your head, and then you listen to it a couple more times, and suddenly,you can’t stop listening to it?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Jesse said. “If I don’t like a song, I’d never listen to it again.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene almost rolled his eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? But my point is that sometimes those songs I thought I didn’t like end up being my favorites. In a way, that’s what this is like. I didn’t get you—hell, I’m not sure I get you yet but I can’t get <em>you</em> out of my head. One thing I know for sure, you’re so much more than I thought at first. And I know I’ll like you because I already do.”</p><p class="p1">“If I’m a song,” Jesse said shakily, “then you only bother listening to me because I’m the shitty remix of the song you actually like but can’t find.”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Eugene said patiently, folding back up Jesse’s picture and dropping it on the bed, “in this metaphor, you’re the original and I listened to the remix first. But you’re better, it just took me a bit to realize. And I <em>can </em>hear the same notes. It’s all you.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse scoffed.</p><p class="p1">“It’s true. Like how you’re sweet.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m <em>not</em> sweet.”</p><p class="p1">“You are. What else would you call your attempts to be someone you thought I’d like?”</p><p class="p1">“Selfish. I was only trying to get what I wanted. It was—,”</p><p class="p1">“Sweet,” Eugene repeated. Jesse had stopped crying but his cheeks were still heated and damp when Eugene took his face and guided it to his, pressing their foreheads together. “I think you’re sweet. You gave me the root beer I wanted at your party too.”</p><p class="p1">“Because I don’t like root beer.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, and you took it anyway because you knew I wanted it,” Eugene said with a single beat of laughter. “But you did give it to me in the end because you knew I wanted it. I know you’re a pain in the ass, Jesse. But I think you’re sweet too, in your own way.”</p><p class="p1">“You’ll regret dating me,” Jesse whispered. But he didn’t pull away.</p><p class="p1">“I thought you said you’re the best? Maybe I’m finally wising up.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse seized Eugene’s face, his own expression shifting into one of fierce determination.</p><p class="p1">“If you go stupid again, I’m not letting you get out of this,” Jesse’s voice was as hard as his eyes. “I fucking hate cooking and I’m terrible at asking nicely and I’m worse at not getting what I want and you’re too nice for me—you’re not the type of boy who likes boys like me.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re right, I’m not. But I <em>am </em>a boy who likes <em>you.” </em>Eugene meant it, too. All the irritation with Jesse’s bratty behavior had turned into something closer to amusement—fondness, even, now that he understood it. It was a little cute, after all, that Jesse spoke so forcefully and confidently when his cheeks were still stained in tracks from tears and his hands trembled slightly against Eugene’s face.</p><p class="p1">“I’m done pretending, Eugene,” Jesse warned. “I mean it.”</p><p class="p1">“Good.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse set his jaw and nodded once before pulling Eugene’s face against his, mouth as warm and sweet as the hot chocolate Jesse must have been drinking earlier this evening.</p><p class="p1">“That last morning,” Eugene said, leaving Jesse’s lips but only by millimeters, “when you thanked me for missing fencing when you couldn’t. That was you.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene tilted into another kiss.</p><p class="p1">“That afternoon eating strawberries,” Eugene whispered, Jesse’s lips tickling against his as the words brought them ghosting together, “when you admitted you weren’t perfect. That was you.”</p><p class="p1">This kiss lingered; Jesse was reluctant to let him pull away.</p><p class="p1">“At karaoke,” Eugene recalled softly, “when you sang with me so quietly no one else could hear. That was you.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse’s lips were as soft tonight as his voice had been that night.</p><p class="p1">“And right now, right here. This is you.”</p><p class="p1">This time when Jesse pulled Eugene’s mouth to his, he didn’t relent and loosen his hold, mouth sliding open again and hands in Eugene’s hair holding him in place. Eugene didn’t try to pull away this time, slotting his own mouth against Jesse’s and settling into the kiss, letting Jesse know he had him.</p><p class="p1">Eugene’s hands fell from Jesse’s face, sliding over his shoulders and down his back. Jesse shivered a little when Eugene’s fingers fluttered over his lower back. Eugene filed that reaction away for later. For the time being, what he really wanted was Jesse as close to him as possible. He looped his arms around Jesse and scooped him in close, holding tightly. Jesse’s body fit to Eugene’s perfectly, warm and wonderful with a quick tempo pounding in his chest. Eugene squeezed him in a hug. Maybe a little too hard because Jesse gasped and turned his head from Eugene’s mouth. But he buried it in Eugene’s shoulders and his hands fell to wrap around Eugene’s arms and clutch as tightly to biceps and the fabric over them as he ever had to Eugene’s sleeves.</p><p class="p1"><em>Yeah, you’re plenty clingy, </em>Eugene thought as he pressed a smile into the crown of Jesse’s buttercup yellow hair.</p><p class="p1">“Tell me you like me,” Jesse requested.</p><p class="p1">“I like you, Jesse.”</p><p class="p1">“Now promise you won’t take it back.”</p><p class="p1">It took Eugene a moment to register the words, to process the vulnerable, miserable worry stored in them.</p><p class="p1">“I promise,” Eugene said when he was sure he could keep the promise. “Don’t think I’ll let you get away with being a dick just because I like you, though.”</p><p class="p1">Jesse’s nails bit into Eugene’s skin through his sleepshirt.</p><p class="p1">“We’ll see about that,” he said airily.</p><p class="p1">“We will.” Eugene swept Jesse’s hair from his face to kiss a rosy cheek. Then the shell of a pink ear. Then the crook of Jesse’s neck. “I think you’re cute, you know. The way you’re so sure you’ll get your way.”</p><p class="p1">“If you think so, why not let me have it?”</p><p class="p1">“Because the real cute part is your face when you <em>don’t </em>get your way.”</p><p class="p1">“I take back thinking you’re nice,” Jesse said, pulling his head out of Eugene’s shoulder to frown at him disapprovingly. Eugene kissed him and Jesse’s disapproval evaporated into soft sounds as Eugene worked open his mouth and kissed him thoroughly.</p><p class="p1">Jesse was both clingy and needy in his kisses, pressing himself hard against Eugene like he thought Eugene might be tempted to let go if Jesse gave him the opportunity. Eugene had no such intentions. He twined hair in his fingers and never let Jesse’s head stray far from his between kisses as they tilted their faces in new directions, and his hand still pressed sturdily into the small of Jesse’s back, not giving an inch.</p><p class="p1">How long had he wanted to do this?</p><p class="p1">Over break, though Eugene had been loathe to admit it, there’d been times when he’d felt like tilting Jesse’s head from the shoulder it rested on and kissing him. But he’d felt guilty enough for the attraction to Jesse in that situation that he’d tried not to think about it. And if he’d held Jesse a little tighter during the night than had been necessary, that was the only transgression he’d allowed himself. He’d <em>known</em> better than to fall for a version of Jesse that didn’t exist. But he’d fallen anyway.</p><p class="p1">And then Jesse had transformed overnight back into the person he really was. And Eugene had thought he wanted that other version of him back. Had missed him. Had thought <em>this</em> Jesse was annoying and pompous and spoiled rotten. But it hadn’t taken him long, really, to adjust. He remembered Jesse’s stubborn scowl that fell away when he thought Eugene wasn’t looking as they watched a <em>silly cartoon</em> over break. And he remembered Jesse’s confession that night about being scared and his—albeit not particularly nice—request for Eugene to join him on the bed. Jesse was a litany of complaints interrupted rarely with moments of honesty and vulnerability. There was something about it that had intrigued Eugene, even if he’d been irritated by Jesse’s incessant demands and endless whining too.</p><p class="p1">The obvious contrasts between the Jesse Eugene had fallen asleep with one night and the one he’d woken up with the next morning had been so great, it had evoked a knee-jerk reaction from Eugene. But when Jesse had appeared again in his life acting angelically sweet, Eugene had been more confused than pleased by the development—or regression—in Jesse’s character. And every time he’d seen Jesse since, he’d been doing just as he had that last day they’d spent together at the cabin. He’d been looking for hints of the Jesse he’d thought he’d known in the one right in front of him. But all this time, he’d been looking for the <em>real</em> Jesse. He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to understand. He’d even seen the way Jesse slipped into whatever role suited him best, acting in accordance with what he thought would get him what he wanted, but Eugene had somehow missed the mask Jesse had pulled on for <em>him.</em> And he’d somehow missed the reason for his disdain of Jesse’s masks, too.</p><p class="p1">Eugene wanted to know Jesse. Wanted him without any masks or pretense or pretending. He wanted to be greedy with getting to know Jesse when the rest of the world only got a string of fluidly exchanged masks and slight tweaks in behavior and mannerisms and personality. <em>That</em> was what had really gotten to him, and Eugene saw that now as Jesse’s smooth cheek pressed into the heel of Eugene’s hand and his mouth yielded a string of honest sounds.</p><p class="p1">Eugene wanted to tell Jesse all of this—to make sure he knew Eugene meant it when he said he wouldn’t take it back about liking him. But he couldn’t think of how to properly convey all that he felt and thought about Jesse and all the tangled threads of his emotions through the past months.</p><p class="p1">“Jesse?” Eugene noticed the raw breathlessness to his voice as he spoke. Seeing that the kisses were on pause, Jesse nestled his head back into the crook of Eugene’s neck, humming in indication for Eugene to go on. “Can I put you in a locket? Keep you in my heart?”</p><p class="p1">Jesse made a sound like a squeak and his head jerked away from Eugene’s shoulder violently.</p><p class="p1">Eugene let out a gasp and Jesse a loud <em>ow! </em>as the top of Jesse’s head connected with Eugene’s jaw.</p><p class="p1">“Fuck, Jesse, that hurt,” Eugene said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. To his surprise, Jesse pressed a hurried kiss to the place of impact, hands clutching Eugene’s shoulders as he stared with gleaming eyes into Eugene’s.</p><p class="p1">“Do you mean it?” Jesse asked. “You want a picture of me in your locket? Like your Lolo has of your Lola?”</p><p class="p1">“I’d need to get a locket first, but yeah. I do.”</p><p class="p1">“I—might be able to solve that,” Jesse said. And it seemed that he really did blush as much and as deeply as he had when acting shy.</p><p class="p1">“What does that mean?” Eugene asked suspiciously.</p><p class="p1">“I never got you a Christmas present. I was picking one out when I ran into you at Kingstone.”</p><p class="p1">“No shit? I can’t believe you were getting me a locket!”</p><p class="p1">“You got me one,” Jesse said, lips tugging down in a stubborn frown.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but you wanted one.”</p><p class="p1">“So did you.”</p><p class="p1">“So why didn’t you ever give me one?”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t know if you’d want one from me. I was waiting until I was sure…”</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure now?” Eugene asked. Slowly, Jesse nodded.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t have it with me.”</p><p class="p1">“That’s okay.” Eugene couldn’t resist a quick kiss to Jesse’s lips but he was smiling too hard for the kiss to really take. “How’s your head?” he asked, smoothing a hand over Jesse’s hair and bending Jesse’s head to him to kiss the top of it.</p><p class="p1">“It hurts. You’ve got a hard chin.” Jesse’s sulk was rewarded with another kiss and Eugene’s kiss was rewarded with a grudging, “Is your jaw alright?”</p><p class="p1">Eugene laughed. “It’s just fine.” Then, sobering up, he coaxed Jesse’s face toward him again, brushing his lips against Jesse’s. “Definitely won’t get in the way.”</p><p class="p1">“Of what?”</p><p class="p1">“This.”</p><p class="p1">Eugene kissed Jesse again, jaw sliding easily as he worked it to deepen the kiss. He was pretty sure Jesse understood now, but he put all his feeling into these kisses just to be sure. And Jesse gave it all back.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">Eugene woke up and for a contented but confused moment, he thought he was back in Lolo and Lola’s attic. He recognized the feel of the boy pressed into him immediately as Jesse and it took a moment for the events of last night to catch up with him. He wasn’t at the cabin and the boy clinging to him in sleep knew exactly who and where he was. Eugene pulled Jesse tighter against him at the thought and buried his nose in sweet-scented hair.</p><p class="p1">Jesse shifted and woke, head tilting so that his forehead bumped softly against Eugene’s lips.</p><p class="p1">“Good morning,” Eugene said quietly.</p><p class="p1">“Mmm,” Jesse replied comfortably.</p><p class="p1">“How’d you sleep?”</p><p class="p1">“Good,” Jesse said, pushing himself up. “Really good.” He tossed his head back, flipping his hair out of his face. It fell obediently into place but Eugene’s eye caught on the tiny purple speckles under stark blue eyes that were now clearly visible. He swept a finger across them and Jesse gasped, batting Eugene’s hand away with his, fingers covering up the blemishes.</p><p class="p1">“Shit,” Jesse said vehemently. And then again, “Shit! You made me cry and now look at me! I’ve got those awful dots again, don’t I? They’ll take all day to fade and it’s all your fault.”</p><p class="p1">“What are they?”</p><p class="p1">“Broken capillaries, it happens when I cry too hard. Were you not listening to the part about how it’s your fault?”</p><p class="p1">“Sorry,” Eugene said, not specifying if he meant for making Jesse cry or for ignoring the statement. He leaned to kiss against the subtle speckles under the eye that Jesse wasn’t covering.</p><p class="p1">“That won’t help any,” Jesse said, but he sounded placated.</p><p class="p1">“They’re kinda cute.”</p><p class="p1">“You think so? How funny, because I distinctly remember you saying that you didn’t think I was cute anymore.”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t say <em>you</em> were cute, I said your little speckles were cute.”</p><p class="p1">“You—!”</p><p class="p1">Eugene laughed, bringing Jesse’s mouth to his and breaking into it easily. Jesse leaned into Eugene, then did one better by shifting a leg over Eugene’s and pulling himself into his lap. He fit there neatly, to no great surprise. When a familiar hand skimmed down Eugene’s arm and found his hand to tightly hold, Eugene abandoned the kiss in favor of pressing him in close with a hand at his back.</p><p class="p1">“What?” Jesse asked when Eugene didn’t immediately kiss him again. But Eugene was glad to just feel Jesse’s weight and warmth and solidity held close to him.</p><p class="p1">“Nothing,” Eugene answered when he was ready to let go of the moment. “I just think you’re cute,” he said, squeezing Jesse’s hand, “that’s all.”</p><p class="p1">“You sure change your story a lot,” Jesse said, then seemed to catch the irony in <em>him</em> saying that. Eugene kissed the tip of one pink ear.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry I implied you weren’t cute before because you were acting like a brat. I know better now. You’re a very cute brat. Forgive me?”</p><p class="p1">“Never.”</p><p class="p1">“And you’ve got very cute speckles,” Eugene reiterated, pressing another kiss, this one to the previously unkissed litany of purple freckles under Jesse’s other eye. “I bet your skin marks easily, huh?”</p><p class="p1">“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jesse asked with a smirk in his voice. And he was right, Eugene <em>would</em> like to know.</p><p class="p1">And there was nothing stopping him from finding out.</p><p class="p1">He kissed down Jesse’s cheek and along his jaw, then down his neck, intent on finding the perfect spot to kiss a mark into. But, instead, he found a mark already made on the left side of Jesse’s chest, just under his collar bone.</p><p class="p1">“You’ve got a heart on you,” Eugene said, brushing a thumb over the red imprint in Jesse’s skin that his locket had left overnight.</p><p class="p1">Jesse looked down at himself, noting the perfect heart on his chest. Then he squinted at Eugene.</p><p class="p1">“So have you,” he said, reaching to swipe fingers gently against a spot on Eugene’s chest just above the collar of his shirt. It was a mirror image to Jesse’s mark, pressed into the right side of his chest where the locket had been trapped between them.</p><p class="p1">“Perfect.” Eugene kissed the heart softly. And then again. And again. And one last time for good measure.</p><p class="p1">“You said before,” Jesse hedged cautiously, “that you aren’t the kind of guy that belongs in a locket…”</p><p class="p1">Eugene pulled off of Jesse’s chest to find him worrying at his lip, a golden chain disappearing into a fist held at the base of his neck.</p><p class="p1">“I think,” Eugene said, wrapping his hand over Jesse’s with a smile, “that I belong in yours.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Do I want a locket with a sweet picture in it? Yes. Should I ever be allowed to own one? No, absolutely not. The picture would be mush in two weeks because I never take jewelry off and that bitch would be coming in the shower with me.</p><p>This fic got three times longer than it was meant to be, as did this chapter, but I'm not even remotely surprised by that at this point. Thank you all for reading this, I've had such a fun time sharing it with you all and I hope you had a fun time reading! You guys are really the best &lt;33</p><p>See you guys in the new year! 💜</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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